


Don't Be Such a Girl, Sammy

by LoveThemWinchesters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom!Sam, Curses, F/M, Genderswap, Humor, Impala Sex, Internal Conflict, M/M, Romance, Wincest - Freeform, girl!Sam, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-17 20:14:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 51,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/871519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveThemWinchesters/pseuds/LoveThemWinchesters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Okay, yeah. Dean makes mistakes sometimes…some are worse than others. But maybe the end result isn’t so bad this time. Mid-Season 3.</p><p>Warnings:  Story contains explicit F/M and M/M scenes. Please do not read if you do not like or are uncomfortable with this content. Language as usual. (Contains some minor spoilers from Seasons 1-3.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I always thought it would be fun to do a genderswap fic, so here's my attempt. Hope you enjoy.
> 
> **********************************************************
> 
> Disclaimer: The Winchesters and Supernatural all belong to Kripke and the CW. I’m just borrowing them…again.
> 
> **********************************************************
> 
> And as usual, I do all of my own editing/beta'ing, so please bear with me.

 

 

Gale force winds and torrential rains caused Dean to hunker down with his arm over his head. “Sam!” he called out into the dark and stormy night. “Sammy!”

That goddamned Vila was out here, stirring up the weather which had gotten the brothers separated; a tree limb the size of the Impala had crashed down in front of Dean just minutes ago, netting him in its maze of branches. The last thing Dean had heard from his brother was that the younger man was going after the nymph-like spirit on his own. “I got it, Dean.” The elder Winchester yelled for Sam to wait – it would only take a minute to get untangled – but his voice was carried away by the wind.

Dean was all but blinded by flying debris and the stinging droplets of water as they pelted at the exposed skin of his face, but he continued to push through the otherworldly tempest. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes since he’d watched Sam disappear into the moonless night. Suddenly, up ahead he saw the beam of a flashlight; it had to be his brother. He picked up the pace and ran. “Sammy! Hey, wait up!” Dean wasn’t sure if Sam even heard him.

As he stepped out from the tree line into a small clearing, Dean just barely caught a glimpse of Sam as the younger man slid out of sight.

“Dean!” Sam hollered as he slid down the muddy embankment. Somehow he managed to grab onto a skeleton-like root sticking out of the slick wall of muck. He looked down to see his flashlight disappear into oblivion below. The hunter froze when he heard a wicked cackle from the woman somewhere down there, too. And then he heard a familiar and comforting voice from up above.

“Sam.” The beam from his brother’s flashlight shone in his face; he squinted. “Hang tight, Sammy,” Sam heard Dean shout frantically over the wind.

“Dean,” Sam’s fingers slipped in their desperate hold and he slid a few inches further down, “I can’t.”

“Yes. You. Can. Sam. Just for another minute.” Dean was down on his stomach, shimmying to the edge, reaching a hand out to Sam. “All you gotta do is reach up.”

Sam knew he had one chance at this. He grunted and swung his free arm up to try to clasp onto his brother’s outstretched hand. Just as his fingertips brushed the calloused palm, the thin root in his other hand decided to give out with a _snap!_

“Dean!” Sam fell; the last thing he saw was the beam of his brother’s flashlight getting smaller as he tumbled down the rocky incline.

“No!” Dean shouted. He swung his flashlight over the wall of mud. It wasn’t so steep that he couldn’t get down it; the drop was maybe thirty or forty feet. Without giving it any further thought, he threw his legs over the edge and hefted himself over.

By the time he reached the bottom of the ridge, Dean figured he was in need of a new pair of jeans, but he was thankful when he noticed that the weather seemed much less severe down here than it had been up in the swaying trees overhead, almost like he was in the eye of the storm.

The first thing he did was sweep the surrounding darkness with his flashlight. _There._ Dean saw the still form of Sam lying on the ground roughly ten feet to his left and ran over to him. The kid was covered in mud and the elder hunter wiped it away from his face. “Hey, Sam. You with me?”

There was no response.

“Shit, little bro. C’mon.” Dean pressed two fingers to Sam’s pulse point on his neck and felt a strong heartbeat under them. _Thank god._

Dean didn’t have time to examine the younger Winchester any closer because he _felt_ a presence approaching from behind. He knew it was what they had come here to hunt without even looking. Quickly, he reached into Sam’s pocket where he knew his brother had stashed the banishing spell before leaving the motel. Dean cringed when he pulled the limp wad of soggy paper out. He focused the beam of his flashlight on it, but all he saw were dark smears of ink. “Shit,” he mumbled. Well, he knew most of the spell. Maybe the rest would come to him.

The hunter stood up and turned to face the Vila. She was a beautiful creature, dressed in a sparkling, white gossamer gown. Her long, dark hair twisted in a fury around her head and the fiery emerald of her eyes burned into Dean as he narrowed his own at her, jaw set in challenge.

“You are a handsome one. Would you like to dance with me?”

Part of their research had informed them that these things were known to try to entice unsuspecting men into a deathly dance and Dean wasn't surprised to hear the offer. "Nah, you're not my type, lady."

Dean stayed between the woman and his unconscious brother as he racked his brain for the banishing spell. It wasn’t an easy one. He had to act quickly; the thing was looking a little miffed that he had just turned her down.

“Unde venistis eieci te. Nihil es…,” the hunter stumbled a little, but continued after thinking for a moment, “Recesserimus exitiales virgo, ad montes creaturae tuae.” Yeah, he was on a roll now; just a few more lines. “Praesentiam tuam hic sumus amplius accipere. Recedemus. Accipite-” _Shit. Come on, Dean. Think!_ Nothing.

He gnawed on his lip, concentrating as he watched the Vila raise her hands into the air above her head. There was a booming thunderclap overhead and a fierce flash of lightning; the wind picked up and threatened to throw Dean from his feet. _I don’t have time for this._ He’d have to pull something out of his ass…and quick.

Crossing his fingers, Dean mumbled a few uncertain lines of Latin. The words sounded okay, not right, but okay. Something about a woman and creation. He knew the part of the banishment that he was forgetting had said something along those lines.

Blinking his eyes several times to clear them of the rain, he saw that the nymph was just standing there, pale lips stretched over teeth, not fazed at all by whatever Dean had just made up.

“Aw, come on! Can’t someone be on my side, just once?”

Dean knew there was one other way to kill this thing. Sam had been against it from the start, but sometimes you just had to go with Plan B, no matter how risky it was. If he could catch her off-guard, maybe he could get to the spirit before she could kill him. His brother had made a comment about them being warrior women and, while in their ethereal form, they were able to produce deadly weapons out of thin air. That was why they had opted to do the spell; they could safely keep their distance. Well, he’d just have to knock her spirit form off the grid so he could deal with her properly.

Dean charged her. He saw an expression of surprise on the maiden’s face and nearly laughed when he tackled her to the ground. Grabbing a handful of her hair, he yanked hard, pulling several long, dark strands from her head. – It was what Sam said had to be done to force her back into her true form. And it worked. – She screamed as her body became corporeal under Dean’s hands, giving him something to take aim at. He yanked his Colt out from the interior pocket of his jacket and pulled the trigger. The woman’s unearthly green eyes flashed in the darkness and then the light died out. With her end, the dark, swirling clouds and high winds overhead disappeared and all was deathly quiet.

It took two minutes for Dean to pour salt and lighter fluid on the creature and set flame to her. Once he made sure she wasn’t going to be getting back up, he ran back over to Sam.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Dean dropped down to his knees beside Sam and swept the man’s unruly hair out of his face. “Hey, Sam. You gonna wake up there, kiddo?” He rested a hand on his brother’s arm and gently shook him.

A low groan escaped from between Sam’s lips and he reached up to push Dean’s hand away. Dean smiled. If his little brother could still be a bitch, he was gonna be okay.

“Dean? Wha’ happen’d?”

“You decided to take a cat nap while I ganked that broad, that’s what.” Sam started to sit up and Dean reached behind him to help steady him. “You think you can make it back to the car?”

Sam’s lip twitched, a sure sign that he wasn’t too sure about the answer he was going to give to his brother’s question. But he pushed through with a nod and said, “Yeah, just gimme a hand up, would you?”

“That’s my Sammy.” Dean grinned and stood, pulling Sam to his feet. He caught the man as he stumbled a little. “Take your time.”

Sam looked over to the low flames eating away at the Vila’s body. “You didn’t banish her?”

“Nah, you know me. Spells and banishments are your thing. Guns and explosives are mine.” Dean winked, although he was sure Sam couldn’t see him in the dark. “Now let’s get going. I wanna check you out once we get back to the car.”

Sam had nothing but a few scratches and some minor bumps and bruises; he’d live. Obviously, he’d hit his head on something when he fell. Dean would check him over a little better once they got back to the room, make sure he didn’t have any signs of a concussion.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

The forest they had tracked the Vila down to was just outside of town. Thankfully, her ‘storm with attitude’ seemed to have stayed within the confines of a one-mile radius, so no one but the Winchesters seemed the worse for wear.

Dean kept his eyes on the dark road ahead of them as he drove them back into town. He was looking forward to getting out of his wet clothes and into something comfortable. But first, “Since I’m such a nice guy, I’ll let you get first dibs on the shower, even though I should since I did all the work.” He _did_ feel a little bit bad that Sam had gotten hurt.

“Gee, I feel so privileged,” Sam deadpanned tiredly from the passenger seat; he shifted and stretched a little, feeling his muscles getting stiff from the beating he had taken. Several silent minutes passed, and then, “So pulling her hair out really worked, huh?”

“Yep. Got her solid enough to put a hole in her, just like you said.”

“You really should have tried harder to memorize the banishment spell. It would have been a lot safer.”

“Yeah, well…” Dean reached over and popped Free into the cassette deck and turned the volume to a moderate level. “You want coffee?”

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

It was nearly two in the morning when they finally settled down to bed. Dean was satisfied that Sam was okay after his fall. The kid might be sore in the morning, but nothing a few ibuprofen couldn’t fix.

After tossing and turning for the last half hour, Dean finally gave up and got out of bed. Curiosity was getting the better of him and he found himself at the table switching the laptop on. For some reason, Dean had to know how the rest of the banishment spell went. He laughed when he read it over. He hadn’t even been close.

He had been under the gun and had done his best. What more could anyone ask for? Dean knew enough Latin to get by with a few exorcisms, but other languages had always been Sam’s department. When he pulled up their translation software, Dean found that what he had said was something more along the lines of ‘creating a woman’, not banishing one. (The old 80s movie ‘Weird Science’ immediately came to mind and he snickered. Kelly LeBrock was a babe. _If only…_ ) He glanced over at the lump in Sam’s bed and shook his head. Dean might give his brother crap for being such a geek, but he had a lot of respect for how smart the kid was.

Since Sam was asleep, it wouldn’t hurt to check up on his favorite website. Dean typed ‘BustyAsianBeauties.com’ into the address bar. He settled comfortably into his chair – Five more months. That’s all he had left to enjoy the little things in life, then he’d be Hell’s bitch – Dean shivered and pushed the thoughts out of his head as he clicked through the pictures on the screen.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Sam was sore. That was the first thing he noticed as he started to wake up the next morning. When he cracked his eyes open, he could see that Dean was still out cold on his bed. The man was lying on his stomach, arm under his pillow (probably holding onto his knife), with the gaudy peach and sea foam green comforter twisted around his legs. The sun filtered through the gauzy curtains telling him it was probably mid-morning. He rolled with a groan and looked at the clock. 9:27 a.m. Late, but not too late. They had the room for another day, so time was nothing to worry about.

Something felt _off_. Sam frowned, not being able to get a sense for what it was right away. He absently swept a hand up to scratch his chest…and he froze. _What the fuck?_ He rolled his eyes down to look, dropping his chin to his chest. His heart began to pound furiously behind his rib cage at what he saw. Breasts. Suddenly he found himself floundering on the bed, tangled in the blankets, falling backwards onto the floor. “Shit!” he yelped as he landed on his ass.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Dean was enjoying those last few peaceful moments of sleep just before waking when something snapped him back into the real world. For the life of him, he wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew it came from Sam’s side of the room. He rolled over and lifted his head.

“Sam?” he called out groggily.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Sam heard Dean begin to shift in his bed. _Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck._ Dean couldn’t see him like this. He picked up and ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him, maybe just a little too loudly. He had to figure out what was going on.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Dean was fully awake now. Something was wrong; the loud bang of the bathroom door gave that away. “Dammit,” he muttered as he threw the blankets off and swung his feet over the side of the bed. Dean was across the room in a flash.

Opting not to just barge in on his brother, Dean knocked on the door. “Hey, you okay in there?” He leaned against the doorframe as he waited for his brother to answer.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Sam didn’t answer. He was too busy staring at himself in the mirror, mouth hanging open. What he saw was a stranger looking back at him, hazel eyes wide with fear. _She_ was maybe 5’6” with wavy, brown hair just reaching _her_ shoulders. _Her_ lips were pouty and _her_ nose was a little thing, slightly upturned. And _she_ was slim, but with curves in all the right places. _Shit!_

Sam leaned forward and stared harder at himself. It was definitely him; he hadn’t swapped bodies with anyone. His moles were all still in the right places; his teeth were still the same. Even the scars which read like a timeline of his past were still there.

He jumped when Dean pounded on the door again.

“Sammy! What’s going on, dude? If you don’t answer me, I’m coming in. I don’t give a crap if the door’s locked or not.” The door rattled.

Dean couldn’t see him like this. He reached over quickly and turned the shower on. Without thinking, Sam yanked his boxer briefs down to get in and froze once more. _Holy fuck! No._ “ _Oh, god_ ,” he whispered. His dick was gone.

His eyes rolled and he passed out.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Dean heard the heavy _thud_ of what sounded like a body collapsing on the other side of the door. “Sam?” Nothing. _Goddammit._ He stepped away from the door and then threw his weight into it, wrenching it open. He was careful as he opened the door, feeling something blocking it from the other side.

Steam from the shower was already fogging up the mirror and filling the room. What he saw when he stepped around the door and looked down threw him for a curve. He frowned. _What the hell?_ He knelt down next to the naked woman on the floor; she was starting to come around.

Dean reached up and grabbed a towel to cover her up. Any other time, he’d be getting his fill of the hot, naked chick lying on his bathroom floor, but something was going on and he felt modesty was the best course for now.

“Dean?” the girl asked as she opened her eyes and looked up at him.

“Yeah, that’s me. Do we know each other? ‘Cause I think I’d remember a hot little number like you if we met before.”

“Ew! C’mon, Dean.” The woman pushed away from him and scooted back to sit against the tub, making sure to keep the towel in place “That’s just...”

“What? I’m just trying to help here. I thought you were my br-” And that’s when Dean noticed the hazel eyes…Sam’s hazel eyes. “Sam?”

The young woman nodded, eyes dropping to the floor, hair falling to cover her features.

For the first time in his life, Dean was speechless. He just stared, gaze moving up and down the slender figure in front of him. Eventually, one word escaped his mouth. “Wow.”

“Dude, just leave. Please,” Sam whined. He couldn’t take his older brother staring at him like that. Really, he’d seen Dean’s eyes rake up and down his body. Sam knew Dean’s type… _he_ was Dean’s type. _And fuck, the man had already seen him in all his glory._ That was just disturbing. He clenched the towel and pulled his legs up tighter to his chest at the thought.

Dean bit down on his lip, trying to hide a smile that was pushing its way onto his face. “Shit, man. I always knew you were a girl, but really? You didn’t have to take it this far.”

Sam should have known that was coming. “Get. The. Fuck. Out. Now,” he growled, but it didn’t sound at all intimidating coming from his now very feminine voice.

Dean stood up and had to force himself to pull his eyes away from Sam. _Sam was a girl. Holy crap!_ “Yeah, okay, Sam. Take a shower, whatever you need to do. I’ll grab you some clothes, probably some of mine because they’re a little bit smaller than your sasquatch-sized shit.” He turned and left the room, pulling the now off-kilter door closed as much as he could.

As he went to his duffel to find the smallest clothing he had, Dean went over everything in his mind that he could think of as to how this could have come about. _How the fuck had Sam become a girl?_ He spotted his old blue shirt that had shrunk in the drier a month or so ago and pulled it out along with a pair of his tighter-fitting jeans. It was the best he could do. Oh, and a pair of boxers and socks.

He went over everything from last night. Nowhere had it mentioned that Vila’s had that type of power. They were weather freaks, not witches or anything of that sort. He knew Sam hadn’t done anything. The only other thing that had happened was… “Oh, fuck!”

Dean very nearly stumbled as he was heading back to the bathroom with clothes for Sam. _This was his fault._ There was no fucking way he was fessing up to this. Nuh-uh. Sam would end his life very painfully and serve him up on a platter with cocktails to the Hellhounds himself if he ever found out.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Sam stood in the shower and let the hot water wash over him. It felt funny being almost a foot shorter than he usually was. He didn’t have to duck to get under the spray of water and the shower stall felt roomier. He guestimated that he was roughly one hundred and thirty pounds soaking wet.

Where there had been nothing but hard planes of muscle before, there was only soft, supple flesh with a hint of definition. His fingers were delicate and, god, he forced himself to look down _there._ Yep, little Sam was gone. He leaned forward and rested his forehead to the tiled wall in front of him. “Why me?”

When the water started to run cold, Sam reached down and spun the valve, shutting it off, and grabbed a towel from the rack on the wall to dry off. Really, he more or less just wrapped the thick, terry cloth around himself not wanting to touch any of his new girl parts. He had heard Dean come in earlier and was thankful to see a fresh set of clothing next to the sink.

Sam picked up the shirt Dean had left for him and pulled it over his head. It fit alright, but it was loose at the waist and just a little tight across the span of his newly acquired…yeah, so not going there.

Never in his life did he think he’d ever wish he had a bra, but he did now. His damn perky nipples were pushing tautly at the thin, cotton fabric. _Great._ He yanked Dean’s boxers up and pulled on the jeans which he had to roll at both the waist and the cuff to keep from tripping on them. Grabbing the socks off the counter, he didn’t bother putting them on, but instead sucked it up and walked out into the main room. He was going to have to face his brother sometime. Might as well get it over with now.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Dean looked up from the laptop when Sam finally emerged from the bathroom. He’d spent the last twenty minutes hurriedly scouring the internet for gender change spells and rituals, but due to the time constraints, he’d found bupkis.

The first thing he noticed – aside from the fact that his brother was now his sister – was that Sam’s bitch face hadn’t changed. The deep scowl across his features told Dean he’d better keep his mouth shut. The elder Winchester just sat back in the chair and waited for his brother to say something, but all Sam did was drop down sullenly on the edge of his bed, his shoulders sagging.

An uncomfortable silence permeated the room. It slowly thickened into tension until both men felt like they were swimming in it.

“Think we should call Bobby?” Dean finally asked.

“No.”

“Sam-”

“No, Dean. No one finds out about this. You hear me? No one.”

“Okay. Yeah.” Dean said without putting up an argument. He would figure this out. Give him a week – okay, maybe a little more than that if necessary – and he would find a reversal spell. Sam would live. They’d dealt with worse.

Dean stared at Sam’s back; the t-shirt clung to the sharp lines of his shoulder blades from his still dripping hair. Just that view alone was so different from Sam’s broad and muscular back; he was such a tiny, almost delicate, thing now.

A stretch of minutes passed and silence shrouded the room again. “Hey, Sam. You gonna be okay?” Dean pushed his chair back from the table and got up, moving quietly across the room and stopping when he got in front of Sam. He noticed then that Sam was crying. _Aw, hell._ “Sammy…” Sitting down on the bed next to his brother, Dean reached out and pulled him in for a hug. “We’ll figure it out. You’re not gonna be stuck like this forever.”

Sam broke away after a few moments and looked up at his brother. He’d never noticed how brilliantly green Dean’s eyes were before…and how long his lashes were. _Shit. Fuck. What the…?_ He blinked and shook off whatever _that_ just was.

“But Dean, your deal… You’re more than halfway there and we still don’t have a clue how to keep you from going to Hell, and you wanna take time to figure _this,_ ” he gestured to himself, “out?”

“There’s plenty of time for both. Anyway, I told you, we shouldn’t be messin’ around with my deal. I won’t let you die again, Sammy. No welching, remember?”

“I’m not giving up, Dean,” Sam said stubbornly. “We’re gonna find out how to get you out of it.”

“One thing at a time, Sam. But right now, I think we need to get you some new clothes.”

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

They spent two hours at the clothing store. Half of that was spent trying to force Sam out of the men’s clothing section. Only after Dean threatened him did he finally head over to the women’s area. It was the most awkward thing Sam had done in his life. He almost died when Dean insisted on accompanying him to the bra and panty racks. Sam had no idea what sizes to get. Dean looked him up and down and pulled two packages of panties and several bras down.

“These should be about right,” the elder Winchester stated matter-of-factly. (Sam wasn’t even going to ask.) “Go try ‘em on.” Sam just looked at him before snatching them from his brother’s fingers and stomping off to the fitting rooms.

Before leaving, they picked up a pair of sneakers and a pair of work boots. Sam insisted on the boots, saying he wasn’t giving up the hunt just because he happened to be a girl temporarily. Dean only lifted an eyebrow and nodded.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Dean stopped mid-step when Sam came out of the bathroom dressed in one of his new shirts and a pair of jeans that actually fit. His eyes drifted to Sam’s cleavage before he could stop them. “Shit.” Suddenly, the swirls on the wallpaper over Sam’s shoulder were much more interesting as he quickly turned his eyes away.

“What?” Sam asked looking down at himself. “Something wrong?” He had thought everything fit fine, but if something was wrong, he wanted to know what it was before he made a fool out of himself in public.

The elder hunter turned and picked up his keys from the table. “No. You look perfectly fine,” he grumbled. “I gotta head out for a few. I’ll be back later.” He was out the door before Sam could ask where he was going.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Dean dropped his forehead to the steering wheel and banged it a few times, berating himself. When Sam had come out of the bathroom, Dean had felt a heat in the pit of his stomach that shouldn’t be there. That warmth went straight to his goddamn cock.

“Fuck.”

He started the car up and headed to the nearest bar. If he could find a quick lay, maybe he could get this _thing_ out of his system. Because, Jesus Christ, that was his little brother in there, not some random chick. How sick and perverted could he get?

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Sam spent the rest of the afternoon and evening researching. He knew something had to have happened to cause this (well, that was obvious), but he didn’t know what. He knew he could call Bobby for help, but that would just be too embarrassing.

Hours passed and yet he found nothing. And there was no sign of Dean either. He looked at the clock and saw that it was nearly eight at night, well past dinnertime. His stomach growled at the thought of food. Sam had wanted to wait for Dean before calling for take-out just in case the man brought something back, but he had no idea where his brother was or what he was doing.

So, he picked up his phone and dialed Dean.

“Sammy, hey, kiddo.”

Sam could hear a slur in his brother’s words. “Dude, are you drunk?” He heard low music in the background and then there was a woman’s giggle and Sam wrinkled his face in disgust. “You know what, never mind. I’ll just see you later.” He hung up the phone. A twinge of jealousy worked its way through his system and Sam didn’t know where that had come from. He’d never really cared about his brother’s sexual escapades before, but then again, he’d never noticed things like how sinfully perfect and kissable Dean’s lips were before either. He shook his head and sighed deeply. _This was so fucked up._ It had to be part of this curse, spell, whatever. Or maybe it was just hormones…

He gave himself a few minutes and then called for Chinese. Some Lo Mein and pork-fried rice would have to cut it for the night. Sam turned back to the computer until his food arrived.

There was something he had read earlier and he wanted to look it over again, so Sam pulled up the history on the laptop. He noticed right away that Dean must’ve been on the computer at some time earlier because there were a lot of sites (including BustyAisianBeauties.com) that he knew he hadn’t been to. After perusing them briefly, he became curious and opened a tab, then another, and another. Minutes passed and he began to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. “That mother fu-”

A knock at the door telling him his food had arrived cut him off.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Dean figured Sam would be asleep when he came back to the room closer to the next day than the previous. So he was surprised when he heard Sam’s voice cut coldly through the darkness when he closed the door quietly behind him.

“Tell me, Dean, how’s your Latin been lately?”

The elder Winchester’s brain was a bit foggy from the alcohol still wearing off. “Huh?” He stripped out of his jacket and laid it over a chair and then began to pull his shirt off as he toed his shoes from his feet.

“Your Latin, Dean. Did you attempt that banishing spell and, oh, I don’t know, fuck it up?”

Dean undid his pants and slipped them down to his ankles, kicking them off. He was tired. Kelly – or was it Candy? – had quite the spirit, and he was physically worn out. _And what the hell was Sam going on about?_

“Dean?” Sam slid to the edge of the bed and flicked the bedside lamp on, bathing the room in its soft, amber glow.

“What?” Dean's face was still hidden in the shadows by the door.

“What did you do, Dean?” Now Sam stood up and crossed the room. He stopped just a foot away from his brother and glared at him. “I know you did this. Now spill.”

Dean’s head cleared immediately. _Sam knew. But how?_ “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He went to step around his brother, but Sam grabbed his arm, stopping him.

“I saw the stuff you’ve been researching on the computer, the translations, everything. Dean, tell me what happened.”

Shaking out of Sam’s grip, Dean turned and sat down on the bed. He wiped his hands over his face and then looked up at his brother. “What do you want me to say, Sam? I screwed up. When your scrap of paper with the banishing spell on it got wet, I made an attempt to recite it from memory, but like you already know, I didn't have the thing memorized. I'm sorry I'm not as perfect as you are.” The words came out a little more clipped than he had meant them to. He looked down at the worn out beige carpet at his feet, not being able to look Sam in the eye anymore. “I might have tried to make up something to fill the blanks, but that clearly didn’t work. Instead,” he waved up gesturing at his brother, “you happened.”

“You just made something up,” the younger Winchester repeated, eyes wide in utter disbelief. “What exactly did you say, Dean?”

“I don’t know. Maybe something about ‘creating’ and ‘woman’. It _was_ part of it, but I think I got my words turned around. When it didn’t work, I shot the bitch. I took care of her. Shouldn’t that at least count for something? You should be thanking my ass. She woulda killed you otherwise.”

“Really? Jesus fucking Christ, Dean!” Sam nearly shrieked, causing Dean to squint his eyes in pain. _That_ sound didn’t mix well with almost a full bottle of whiskey. “Look at me! You turned me into a fucking girl!”

“C’mon, Sam. It can’t be all that bad. Can it?”

Sam huffed in fury. He walked up to Dean and smacked him.

Normally, Dean would have caught the hand mid-swing, but yeah, he was a little tipsy and not so quick to react. And okay, he might have deserved that…just a little.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Sam was quiet as they drove. The heat of anger from last night was still smoldering, but now that he’d had time to think it over, he understood that Dean had tried. What he was more pissed about right now was that the man hadn’t bothered to apologize. Not once did he say he was sorry.

There was no particular destination ahead of them, but Dean was driving east through Indiana. Sam watched the scenery go by out the window. His brother wasn’t saying much either because even though he wouldn’t admit it, he was nursing a hangover.

After a while, Sam shifted and his eyes fell on Dean’s profile. His gaze drifted from the man’s short, spiky hair, to his nose and over his lips, and downward, following the hard muscles of his biceps which his sleeves enveloped so nicely. Sam caught himself staring and snapped his focus away, back out the window to the road ahead of them.

“See something you like, Sammy?” Dean asked without looking over. “I mean, girls can’t seem to keep their eyes off me, and well...” He smirked.

“Fuck off, dude.” Sam crossed his arms and sat back in the seat, pouting. _Was he just checking his brother out…again?_ He had to figure a way out of this; it was just getting too weird. Plus, he was still mad at the man.

Dean glanced over at Sam. The pout on his brother’s face was just… _God, those lips and what they’d be like..._ His eyes dropped to the swell of Sam’s breasts which were being pushed up from the way his brother hugged his arms defiantly under them. Dean licked his lips subconsciously.

“Dean!” Sam yelled, arms flying out and hands reaching over for the steering wheel.

Dean looked up and grabbed the wheel; he had drifted into the other lane. _Shit!_ The car lurched back over to the right side of the road.

After that, both men kept their eyes on the road, and only the road, until they hit a small suburb just outside of Baltimore that evening. Not much more than a casual word was said between the two for the remainder of the drive, not even when they stopped by a drive-thru and took a break to eat.

Dean pulled the Impala up outside some no-tell motel. “I’ll be right back,” he said as he climbed out of the car and headed into the small office.

Less than ten minutes later they found themselves staring at the interior of their new home for the next couple of nights. A large, blue marlin hung on the wall over the beds and the comforters were blue, white, and yellow; the tacky wallpaper had rows of life preservers and anchors at patterned intervals going all the way around the room. As they looked around, their eyes landed lastly on the coffee table which was built from a lobster trap. (There was a damn plastic, but realistic-looking, lobster inside the thing.)

“Huh,” they both said at the same time.

“At least it’s clean,” Dean commented as he opened one of the duffels and pulled out a container of salt. He went about the task of putting salt lines down at the windows and the door. “You wanna head out and get a drink? I think we both need to unwind a little.”

Sam dropped his laptop off on the table and tossed his bag over onto the bed. He gave the idea some thought. Since waking up the wrong sex, he hadn’t really gone anywhere except to the store to buy clothes. It wasn’t that he was hiding, but it still felt awkward knowing he’d be seen as a girl everywhere he went. But yeah, Dean was right; he could use a drink, too.

“Let me just get a quick shower in.” He slipped his sneakers off and began peeling out of his clothes. Years of habit were hard to break and he didn’t even notice what he was doing.

Dean barely managed to hold onto the salt container when he’d caught sight of his brother stripping. If he didn’t speak up, Sam was going to be butt-assed naked in a second. “Uh, Sam.” He cleared his throat and shifted, feeling his pants tighten.

“Yeah, what?” Sam asked as he stepped out of his jeans.

“Dude… Fuck, Sammy. You can’t _do_ that.”

Sam stopped and looked up, brow creased, wondering what his brother was going on about. And then he realized what he’d done when he saw Dean staring at him with something akin to lust burning in his eyes. _His brother was a red-blooded male after all._ Sam felt the heat of a blush rising up his neck and face and quickly pulled a flannel overshirt out of his bag, holding it up in front of his mostly naked body.

They stared at each other for a span of heartbeats, unspeaking, unmoving.

“Sorry,” Sam finally squeaked as he grabbed his clothing bag and darted into the bathroom.

Dean watched Sam’s fine little ass disappear around the corner into the other room. He reached down to adjust himself. _I am so screwed._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter holds up to the awesome reviews some of you left on the first chapter. Thank you again for reading :)

When Sam came out of the bathroom, he found his brother leaning against the counter in the kitchenette, legs crossed at the ankle and a beer already in hand. “Couldn’t wait up for me?” He smiled, trying to break the ice, as he stuffed his dirty clothes into their laundry bag.

“You could say that. – You ready? Because I know I am.” Dean knocked back the rest of the bottle and chucked it into the garbage. He grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair at the table and pulled his keys from the pocket.

“I just need a sec to put my shoes on. I can meet you out at the car.”

“Yeah, okay.” Dean nodded and left the room without so much as giving Sam a second glance.

Sam noticed Dean wasn’t really making eye contact with him, but the scene before his shower _had_ been just a bit awkward for both of them. Maybe as the evening wore on, things would cool down. He hoped so anyway.

He got his shoes on and then retrieved his Taurus from the drawer of the nightstand, tucking it into his waistband at the small of his back. The gun felt huge in his now smaller, feminine hands and it weighed heavily in his pants, but he wasn’t going anywhere without a weapon, not in their line of work. Finally, he tugged on his coat and went to meet Dean outside, making sure that the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign was on the doorknob on his way out.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

It was drizzling and the late season chill in the air had their breath escaping in white vapors from their noses and mouths. The moon was a waxing crescent in the cloud-filled sky, barely lighting their way through the parking lot of the crappy dive this town called a bar.

Sam kept pace with Dean, maybe a little more so than usual, feeling mildly vulnerable in his new body; he was used to people backing down from him with just a look. Something told him that wasn’t going to work anymore. Now he’d actually have to fall back on Dean for protection if shit hit the fan. That sucked.

Dean must have picked up on Sam’s thoughts. He stopped at the door and looked down at his brother before opening it. “We could go somewhere else if you want. There’s a diner up the street.”

“I’ll be fine, Dean.” Sam wasn’t ready to give up his man card just yet.

“Alright. Just stick close. I know you’re you, but you know these places can get rowdy.”

“Thanks for the lesson in Bars 101, Mr. Winchester,” Sam mumbled.

“Bitch,” Dean muttered as he pushed through the door ahead of Sam.

Sam didn’t even bother with the retort.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Dean noticed it almost as soon as they walked in, even under the low interior lighting; many pairs of lusting eyes turned toward his brother. His normally moderate need to protect Sam shot up tenfold on the big brother meter and he found himself instinctively slipping an arm around Sam’s waist, pulling him closer. Dean felt his brother squirm under the gesture, but he gripped him all that much tighter.

“Trust me on this, Sam,” he leaned down and whispered in his brother’s ear. The younger Winchester looked up at him, the dim lights shadowing his features, and Dean could feel him relaxing into his arm.

They found a table near the back of the room and flagged down a waitress as they made themselves at home. The brothers started with an order of two beers and three shots of whiskey. Dean drank his two shots straight down before the condensation even had a chance to build up on the outside of the glasses; Sam followed with his one, grimacing from the bitter taste of the liquor.

Sitting back on the bench seat, Dean kicked his foot up in the vacant chair next to Sam, warding off anyone who might feel the need to occupy the seat. “How you holding up?” he asked after a while, catching his brother’s eye.

Sam had his bottle pressed to his lips, head tilted back, exposing the long expanse of his neck; Dean caught himself staring at the play of muscles as Sam swallowed. He forced his gaze up to Sam’s face; _that’s_ where he should be looking, and nowhere else.

Sam put the drink down on the table, fingers sliding down over the smooth surface of the amber-colored glass. After a span of silence, almost as if he had to give some thought as to how he was, he replied, "Alright, I guess."

The elder hunter dropped his booted foot to the floor and leaned forward over the table. “Look, Sam, I’m sorry for what happened. You know I would never-”

“Dean, I’m over it, okay. I know. It was a mistake. Let’s just figure out how to get me back to being me.” He took another long pull from his bottle and stared at the green label on the side of it when he brought it back down.

Dean’s eyes watched Sam’s lips wrap around the end of the bottle and he shifted back in the seat. His brother didn’t even know it, but god, he was just begging for it. He pulled his eyes away, letting them drift around the bar, eying the billiard tables and a couple of poker games which were in session. They eventually came to rest one particular guy who was watching Sam’s movements. The man saw Dean scowl at him and looked away quickly.

The waitress came back a little while later and they ordered another round of shots, two each this time, and another couple of beers. Sam said he needed it…and who was Dean to say no?

Maybe he should have.

“Dean,” Sam slurred out twenty minutes later, “I can see why all the girls flock to you. You’re hot.” Sam’s little pink tongue darted out and wet his lips; his eyes looked like they were undressing Dean.

“Oh, dear Lord,” Dean groaned quietly to himself. He was trying so hard to ignore the fact that his brother looked like something he’d normally take back to the room for a quick fuck, but Sam was making it nearly impossible. “I think you need to call it quits on the liquor, dude. You’re hammered.”

The younger Winchester had always been a light-weight – they both knew that – but, Jesus, he was even worse now, weighing in somewhere around fifty pounds less than he usually did. Dean hadn’t given that any thought as they were ordering their drinks; Brainiac Sam hadn’t either.

Sam grinned widely, dimples deepening. “Aw, protective big brother Dean, makin’ sure his little Sammy is okay. That’s so sweet,” he teased as he picked up the half bottle of beer in front of him and chugged it back in one shot, slamming it back down on the table afterward…more like almost dropping the bottle and fumbling at it to keep it upright.

He stood up then, swaying just a little, and leaned deeply over the table, much in the same way a lot of horny waitresses usually did to Dean. Sam smirked – Dean could swear his brother knew exactly what he was doing – and said, “Well, your ‘ _little_ Sammy’ has to use the _little_ girl’s room…and I don’t think you want to follow me in there.” He threw Dean a kiss before heading off to the rear of the bar.

“Fuck, Sammy.” What the hell _was_ that?

Dean shook his head as he watched his brother disappear down the back hall to the restrooms. And once again, he found himself having to shift in his seat because his jeans felt just a little too confining. _Yep, time to go_. He got their waitress’ attention so he could take care of their tab.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

One good thing about being a girl was that when you were drunk off your ass, it was a lot easier to piss in the toilet sitting down than standing up. Sam finished up in the bathroom and stepped back out into the dimly lit hallway. He swept his hair back from his face and grinned. He was feeling pretty damn good. Oh, and flirting with Dean? It was just too much fun seeing the man squirm like that.

Before Sam walked around the corner to head back out into the bar, a large man came into the hallway, boxing him in.

“Hey, gorgeous. I’ve been watching you and that there boyfriend of yours. He’s a bit possessive, ain’t he?”

Sam backed up, sobering a bit. He looked over his shoulder to see if anyone else was around, but they were alone. _Shit._

The guy kept moving forward, herding Sam back into the paneled wall behind him. “Look, I really don’t need this shit right now…so why don’t you back the fuck off.” He felt his gun dig into his back, but really, he wasn’t about to shoot someone inside a bar.

“Oh, and what a dirty mouth you have on you,” the man drawled out, stepping closer. “I bet you scream real pretty in bed.”

At that, Sam took a somewhat sloppy swing at the man, but even as drunk as the guy was, he still managed to catch the hunter by the wrist, slamming it into the wall over Sam’s head, causing him to cry out. The drunk pressed his body into Sam and leered at him.

“Just a little kiss, sweet thing. What do you say? Won’t hurt nothing and your boyfriend’ll never know. If you like it, maybe we can do somethin’ a little more after.”

Sam squirmed in the tight hold, turning his face away from the man’s hot, sickly breath, but he couldn’t get loose. And then he felt the press of a hard cock against his leg and he paled. Suddenly, the man’s mouth was at his neck and Sam felt a wave of nausea crash through him; he swallowed tightly.

“Hey, get your hands off her, you fucking asshole!”

 _Dean._ _Thank god._

The drunk pulled away from Sam and turned around. He was taller than Dean by a few inches, wider by at least a foot; his drunken ego was even bigger than that. Those three things gave the man a bloated sense of confidence. The problem was, he didn’t _know_ Dean and what he was capable of.

“And what if I don’t want to? What are you gonna do, boy?”

“Sammy, go wait for me in the car,” Dean said through gritted teeth; his jaw was clenched and a muscle ticked in his cheek.

Sam knew the look on his brother’s face and he knew the raw danger that lay beneath it. He went to take a step away, but the drunk put a thick arm out, keeping him from going anywhere.

“Nah, I’m not quite done with her yet.” And then the man lumbered towards Dean.

There was the sudden sound of knuckles connecting with a cheek bone and then a few other pulpy sounding noises that Sam didn’t want to think too much about; it was over in less than a minute. Moments later Sam found Dean grabbing a hold of his arm and he was being pulled quickly from the establishment. “Let’s get outta here. None of the waitresses were my type anyway.”

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

“Sorry, Dean,” Sam said as they got to the car.

“What the hell are you apologizing for, Sammy? None of that was your fault.” Dean reached over and unlocked the passenger side door so his brother could get in. As he pulled the door open, the elder hunter suddenly found himself with his arms full of Sam.

Sam nestled his face into the crook of Dean’s shoulder and inhaled; his brother smelled so good…leather, gun powder, Dean. Home. “Dean…” He felt a surge of need and turned his lips to Dean’s neck. Some microscopic thing in the back of his inebriated mind told him this was _wrong_ , that he shouldn’t be doing this, but god, it felt right somehow, like he belonged there.

“Whoa! Hey, Sam.” Dean jumped when he felt the caress of soft lips at his collarbone. “Let’s not be doing anything you’ll regret in the morning, okay?” _And before Dean did something he’d regret in the morning._ He pulled out of Sam’s clinging embrace and started pushing him into the car. “C’mon, let’s get you back to the room so you can sleep this off.”

Not even two minutes into the ride, Sam was slumped against the window, sleeping like a baby.

When they pulled into the motel parking lot, Dean shifted the car into park and turned the engine off. He sat back in the seat, the leather creaking with the movement, and ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh. Sam was gonna be the death of him if they didn’t fix this situation soon. Dean might be fucked up, eying his little brother the way he had been since this happened, but this, the way Sam was acting? It wasn’t Sammy. It _had_ to be because of the curse he’d accidentally laid on his brother. Sam wasn’t a freak like that. Never once had he tried to come onto Dean before.

He looked across the seat at the man ( _no wait, woman_ ). His brother’s lips were pursed and little puffs of condensation fogged up the window with every breath he took. Dean reached over and tucked a few stray strands of hair back out of his face, biting into his bottom lip as he let his knuckles smooth over Sam’s cheekbone. Sam stirred a little at the gentle touch, but didn’t wake.

Dean sat there for a while, contemplating what was going on with himself. He thoroughly understood his body’s reaction at seeing Sam in this new form; his brother was blessed in the looks department whether male or female. It was one of those things that seemed to run in the family. But Dean was _feeling_ things, too. _How long had that been going on?_ He loved Sam – that was a given – but there was something more there, something just beneath the surface… something other than just the love siblings had for one another. And it was scaring the living shit out of him now that he knew it was lurking there.

Another car pulled up two spaces away and a family of four started to get out, shaking Dean from his deep thoughts. Well, whatever was going on in his twisted brain, Sam wasn’t going to find out. They’d fix this and go back to the way things always were…even if it was only for five more months.

The door gave a loud, protesting groan as Dean pushed it open and got out. The family next to him was unpacking their car for the night. He saw the mother had a sleeping infant resting on her shoulder and their five or six year old son was watching Dean as he stood up and stretched out the kinks in his body. The little boy hesitantly waved at him, causing the older man to smile. He waved back and laughed when the child turned and hid behind his mom’s leg. The mother looked over, smiling, and mouthed, “He’s shy,” before taking the kids into their room. The father, weighed down by their bags, glanced over, said, “Nice car,” and followed his family inside, closing the door behind him. When Dean was gone, paying his dues in Hell, he hoped Sam could finally have that. The kid deserved it more than most people out there did.

Dean got the door to their room open and then went back to the car. He carefully opened the door so Sam wouldn’t fall out; his brother grumbled something, but didn’t wake up. “Sammy, next time we go out, you’re gonna stick to beer…or better yet, water.” Dean grunted as he slipped his arms behind Sam’s shoulders and under his knees and lifted him out of the car. He pushed the car door shut with his hip and headed into the room.

“Dean?” Sam finally stirred slightly as Dean placed him on the bed.

“Yeah, it’s me, Sam. Just get some sleep.”

Sam didn’t seem to have any argument with that as he closed his eyes and began to snore quietly. Dean worked on getting his brother’s boots off his feet. In the past, under the same circumstances, he would strip the younger man out of his pants to make him more comfortable as well. He hesitated on that thought. _C’mon, Dean. You can control yourself._ Trying to touch Sam as little as possible, Dean reached up, deftly unbuttoned his brother’s jeans and lowered the zipper. He tugged the pants off and tossed them in the vicinity of their laundry bag. Moving around to the side of the bed, Dean pulled the blankets up to cover his brother. Without thinking, he leaned down and kissed Sam on the forehead. “Sweet dreams, Sammy.”

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Sam woke up late into the night with the persistent need to use the bathroom. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was nearly 3 a.m. He couldn’t remember coming back to the room. Dean had obviously dragged his sorry ‘three sheets to the wind’ ass back to the motel after the altercation last night. Sam shivered at what could have happened at the bar if his brother hadn’t been there to intervene.

He climbed out of bed and headed into the bathroom. After he emptied his bladder, he threw some cold water over his face and brushed his teeth, getting rid of the lingering aftertaste of the whiskey. After, he filled a glass with water and stood there for a few minutes drinking it, letting the cool liquid refresh his palate.

Vague memories of how he had acted towards Dean last night came to mind. Surprisingly, he didn’t find himself that embarrassed by it. Maybe he should have been, but he wasn’t. His brother made him feel safe and secure and he knew the man would always take care of him. Sam loved Dean and had known for quite some time now that there might have been a little more than just normal brotherly love floating around in his heart. He knew his brother would kick his ass if he ever found out about those feelings, so he kept them well-guarded. Over the years, Sam had managed to bury them so deeply that he was almost able to hide them from himself as well. But something since his change was bringing those hidden desires to the forefront…and Sam found that he was okay with it, as screwed up as that was.

And then there was the whole physical attraction thing. That was something new. Sure, Dean was a good-looking guy, but Sam had never really found himself lusting after his brother like he had been for the last couple of days. That _had_ to be female hormones.

Sam drained the glass of water and set it down on the counter. He switched off the light and headed back out to bed. As he was moving to slip back under the covers, Sam glanced over at Dean. His brother was on his stomach as usual, sheet wrapped low around his waist. The tanned expanse of his back held Sam’s attention. The sudden urge to be close to that wove through him and he stepped over to Dean’s bed. He hovered there for a minute, knowing that if he was anyone else, Dean would have awoken by now.

He chewed at the inside of his cheek as he took in his brother’s rumpled hair and the slow rise and fall of his shoulders as Dean breathed. The thought that this beautiful man was slated to go to Hell in just five months’ time made Sam want to crumple where he stood. He felt a tear roll down his cheek as a knot built up in his throat. “Oh, god, Dean…”

And then Sam was sliding into bed beside his brother. Dean shifted onto his side without waking and the younger Winchester moved even closer, his back to the man’s chest. He reached behind him and pulled Dean’s arm around him. It let Sam know that Dean was still there, that they still had time to figure a way out of this ungodly deal. Sam wasn’t going to lose his brother.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Dean woke up feeling warmer than usual. Before he even opened his eyes, he knew the reason why: Sam had made his way into his bed sometime during the night. He could tell by his brother’s breathing that he was still asleep, probably dreaming about lollipops and candy canes.

They were spooned together and his arm was draped around Sam’s slender waist. Dean felt Sam’s bare legs touching his own and his brother’s hair tickled under his chin. He let his thumb rub against the smooth skin of Sam’s stomach where his shirt had rucked up while sleeping and a soft sigh escaped from Sam’s lips. Dean couldn’t help but lean in and breathe in Sam’s scent; it was different now, but not. Other than that, he remained perfectly still, not wanting to wake his brother.

A few perfectly peaceful minutes passed and then Sam shifted back against Dean just a little. Unfortunately, that little bit brought something to Dean’s attention; it was something both awkward and good. His morning wood was basically slotted right up against Sam’s ass. He bit back the groan that tried to escape as he thought about it, how close he was to… _Fuck!_ And Dean was suddenly out of bed heading into the bathroom, leaving a half-asleep, but confused Sam in his wake.

Dean spun the valve for the shower on and stripped out of his boxer briefs. He stared down at his ready and willing cock and glared at it. “ _You_ are evil.” Yanking the shower curtain back, Dean stepped under the spray of water.

As soon as he was in, Dean wrapped his fingers around his swollen shaft and began to stroke it. He had to get this out of his system. _So sue me for spanking off to my baby brother,_ he thought as he pumped his hand vigorously up and down his dick, swiping his finger over the crown on the upstroke.

He braced himself with one hand up against the wall as his pace picked up and his breathing began to falter. His face twisted up as his orgasm quickly began to race through his system. “Oh, fuck! Sam…,” he hissed through clenched teeth. A few more twists and jerks and Dean let go with a low groan, his semen coating the tiled wall in front of him. His body felt overly relaxed as he came down from his climax and he turned his face up to the hot spray of water.

What was strange about the whole thing was that the image of Sam in his mind as he came was of _Sam_ , normal Sam, not female Sam. “Yep, abso-fucking-lutely screwed,” he muttered.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

When Dean came out of the bathroom a little while later, Sam didn’t bother questioning his brother’s sudden disappearance; Dean didn’t need to explain his every action; neither did Sam for that matter. Living in such close quarters all the time had taught them not to try to micro manage each other because if they did, it always led to them arguing. And there was enough shit out there to fight without fighting each other.

Sam looked up from the laptop meaning to ask his brother a question, but his mind went blank. Dean was wearing nothing but a towel slung low around his narrow hips. Sam felt a warmth low in his belly and shifted in his seat, attempting to push the feeling aside. He looked back down at the screen in front of him, trying to gather himself.

This was getting a little too crazy. Yeah, he may have been harboring some unbrotherly feelings towards Dean over the years, but God, since when couldn’t they change in the same damn room without Sam wanting to jump the other man’s bones? Male or female, Sam was still the same person underneath it all. It shouldn’t make a difference. _But just look at those tight abs…and the happy trail leading down to… Fuck. Shit. Goddammit._

“Hey, Dean?” he finally managed to get out after silently berating himself.

“Yeah, Sammy?” Dean was going through his duffel looking for something to wear; he didn’t look up.

“Do you think you can try to remember what you said the other night so I have a little more to go on here? I’m sorta up shit’s creek with what I have. There’s not much out there.” After Dean had gotten in the shower, Sam had decided to spend some more time on the internet searching for information on his problem, maybe a counterspell, but nothing had stood out as promising (or safe); his previous research had yielded just as much.

The elder hunter slipped a pair of boxer briefs on, letting the towel drop. Sam caught a glimpse of his brother’s bare ass and he chewed on his lip so hard, he tasted blood. He looked down quickly so Dean wouldn’t see the lust he felt burning in his eyes. This was getting bad.

“I’ll give it a try,” was all Dean said as he pulled his jeans on, seemingly ignorant to Sam’s personal dilemma.

Even as he worked at suppressing his runaway hormones, Sam could tell that something was _off_ about his brother. “Y’okay, Dean?”

“I’m fine. Just need coffee and something to eat. – I won’t even ask how you’re up and functioning this morning.” He tugged a t-shirt down over his head, ruffled his short hair, and then reached into his collar with both hands and drew his amulet out to let it rest at his chest over the dark material.

“Lucky, I guess. – If you wanna head out and hit up a diner, I don’t mind,” Sam said as he closed the computer giving up for the time being. He was feeling hungry himself.

“Now you’re talking.” The idea of food brought a smile to Dean’s face. “I think I’m gonna have a stack of pancakes this morning, side of sausage. Oh, and maybe some eggs, too. Mmmm… My mouth’s watering just thinking of it.”

Sam giggled. “You and your food porn, dude. It’s a sickness.” He got up out of his chair and began to sift through his bag for something to wear.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

As they were waiting for their food, Dean was doodling on the back of the paper placemat in front of him. Sam was flipping through the pages of a local newspaper looking for anything that might be up their alley. He glanced down when his brother pushed the paper across the table to him.

“There. That’s what I said…I think…mostly anyway,” Dean said. “The spelling might be off, but phonetically that’s pretty much it.”

Sam looked at the paper. Aside from a few scattered drawings of what may have resembled the Impala (and was that a horse or a dog in the top left-hand corner?), there was some Latin scrawled out in Dean’s tight handwriting. “Well, you were close…sorta.” Sam smirked. He knew he should be upset, but as Dean said, it could be worse; he could be dead instead. They were both known to fuck up once in a while. Neither of them was perfect by any stretch of the imagination. As long as they both came out alive in the end, that’s all that mattered.

By then, the young blonde who was their waitress returned with their plates of food. Dean got his chocolate chip pancakes and sausage…and scrambled eggs…and toast (which he slathered with grape jelly). Sam got his sunny-side up eggs with whole wheat toast and a glass of orange juice. They thanked her and began to dig in hungrily.

The brothers ate in companionable silence, each lost in his own thoughts. If they only knew that they were both sitting there basically worrying over the same thing… _How did they get so fucked up that they wanted to get in the other’s pants?_

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

That evening Sam was sitting at the table rubbing his closed and tired eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He’d spent the better part of the day looking for his _cure._ And all he came up with was a big, fat, lousy zero. Nothing, not even with the additional information Dean had provided.

For the last hour or so, without Dean’s knowledge, he’d been surfing the web looking for a job. He found a few potential hunts: one in Arkansas, another in Vermont, and yet another in Nebraska. Sam wasn’t sure about Dean’s thoughts on hunting with him as a girl, but he wasn’t going to give up the life just because he was now the fairer of the two sexes.

Sam had noticed some changes in his brother since waking up the other morning. He hadn’t thought it was possible, but Dean was even more protective of him now…staying closer, touching him more frequently, almost as if claiming him for his own to keep others away. It didn’t bother Sam too much (yet), but it was something they were going to have to discuss at some point if this became a more permanent situation. It would become too dangerous to hunt if Dean was always worried about protecting him.

“Take your pick, vengeful spirit, ghoul, or succubus.”

“Huh?” Dean was sitting on the bed, Colt dismantled in his lap. He was giving it a thorough cleaning as he’d done with most of their other guns to pass the long and boring day away; he had already sharpened and oiled their collection of knives.

“I’ve exhausted most of my sources on _me_ , so I figured we could take our minds off things by taking on a job.”

Dean looked up from where he was sliding the cleaning rod through the bore of his gun. “Are you sure? I mean, maybe we should lie low for a while until we _do_ figure you out. You can’t-” He dropped off before the rest of the words left his lips. Even Dean knew that sounded bad.

Yep, as expected, there it was. _Looks like we’re going to have this conversation sooner rather than later._ Sam got up and walked over to the bed where Dean was sitting. He took a seat on the end, picking up his freshly cleaned Taurus, hefting it in his hand.

“Dean, I’m not gonna stop hunting because I no longer have a penis.”

Dean’s eyes snapped up at that. “I didn’t-”

“Stop. I’m not arguing about this, okay?” Sam replied softly. He knew if the shoe was on the other foot, he would be acting just like his brother.

The elder Winchester was quiet, but Sam could see the tension in the man’s jawline as he looked back down to his gun and gave another couple of strokes of the cleaning rod, then pulled it out. “Yeah, fine, alright. Succubus then.” He picked up the bore brush and ran it through the gun to loosen up any hidden debris and then held the weapon up to look through it.

That choice didn’t surprise Sam. It was the one creature of the three that would be the least dangerous to himself and Dean knew it. Succubi went after men, not women. Sam held his tongue; there was no use starting an argument over it. Out of the three, the succubus _was_ the highest priority hunt, the most dangerous to the general public.

“Alright then. So we’re leaving for Nebraska tomorrow.”

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

They were in Crete, Nebraska two days later.

Some indeterminate time later, Dean woke up to find that he was lying, spread-eagled and naked, bound at both wrists and ankles, on a bed in some anonymous suburban bedroom. He didn’t know how long it had been since the creepy demon had gotten its clammy hands on him, but however long it was, it was more than he felt comfortable with. And Sam had better pull some miracle out of his ass before this thing turned him into a sex-craving zombie. These things were ‘feel good’ demons. You’d ‘feel good’ until you found yourself dead, your life sucked out right through your dick.

But it was starting to look like it was too late because minutes after he awoke, the demon stepped into the room. Dean went to open his mouth to let out one of his random, snide remarks, maybe something about not being into the bondage thing, but he found that he couldn’t; he was already falling under her spell.

The succubus was, as usual, a beautiful being. This particular one had waist-length auburn-colored hair and a nice set of tits. And Dean knew those luscious lips would feel so good wrapped around his already aching cock. He groaned, knowing what he was seeing and feeling was all an illusion brought on by the demon, but dear god, he wanted her.

She climbed up onto the bed and slithered over Dean, dragging her breasts over his skin as she slid up his body; her hot tongue licked searing trails up the insides of his thighs as she went. He shivered when she reached his cock and mouthed it just enough to make him shiver. A low moan escaped from his lips when she pulled away and he found himself rolling up, looking for more.

“Patience, my love,” she whispered as she continued her journey up his torso.

By the time she reached his mouth and pushed her delicious tongue into him, soft, needy keens were emanating from Dean’s throat and he wanted everything she could give. He bucked up and groaned when he felt her rub her moist heat along his shaft.

“Please…,” he begged, fingers clenching into fists, blunt nails digging into the flesh of his palms.

As if in response to his begging, the succubus lifted up and took a hold of his hardened length. Dean’s eyes rolled up into his head at the feel of her hand on him. So close…

“Viribus Caelo et Inferno, trahe nos ad hanc mulierem cecidit,” Sam’s voice suddenly carried through the room loudly. The demon seized up, falling away from Dean’s erection, and began to scream. “Scindam de illa foeda cupiditas, ut periret sicut tinea ignis.”

The succubus writhed and flailed while still straddling Dean. She turned her head and hissed at Sam as he walked up throwing holy water over her naked form. When the spoken ritual was completed, Sam drove a twice blessed stake through her heart before she could break free from the spell. She fell to the ground where a wisp of purple-hued smoke fell from her lips and sank into the floor.

“Dean!” Sam jumped up onto the bed. His brother was out of it, still under the succubus’ enchantment. Sam couldn’t tell at this point if the creature had had sex with his brother or not; it had been a couple of days. He knew all too well what could have happened in that amount of time. “Dean! C’mon, snap out of it.” Sam gently smacked at his brother’s cheeks, trying to rouse him from his stupor.

Dean’s lust-blown pupils shrank down to their normal size and he blinked up. “Sammy?” Before he knew what was happening, Sam leaned down and kissed him, full on the mouth, very unbrotherly-like. Dean gasped and Sam took advantage of the opening. The next thing he knew was that he had a mouthful of his little brother’s tongue. And dammit, he was already going to Hell, so Dean kissed back.


	3. Chapter 3

The wet heat of Sam’s tongue tangled with Dean’s and pushed in to explore the depths of his mouth. Dean moaned and felt his cock twitch again, but this time it was because his brother was on him. He chased Sam’s tongue with his own, letting himself taste his brother. And, fuck, did Sam taste good. He could possibly keep this up forever if given the chance.

Sam began to pull away, sucking Dean’s bottom lip between his teeth, biting teasingly at it and sending a thrill through Dean’s body. The elder Winchester groaned again when Sam let go and finished with a final press of his lips against his. The kiss ended way too soon in Dean’s opinion.

When Sam sat up and looked down at him, realizing what he’d just done, Dean could see shock in his brother’s wide, hazel eyes.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

 _Holy shit!_ He had just full-on kissed Dean!

“Dude, you keep kissing like that, I ain’t gonna need a succubus to kill me.” Dean lay there grinning up at him.

“Oh my god, Dean. I…I’m so sorry. I don’t know what-” Sam jumped up and stumbled away from the bed, nearly tripping on the dead body of the succubus on the floor. He ran a shaky hand up through his long locks and stared at Dean, waiting for the man to say something.

“Sam, stop freakin’, okay? I get it. You were scared. I’m fine. – Maybe you could think about untying me though. I can’t feel my hands.” Dean glanced up at his still bound wrists, then back at Sam.

As Sam worked on cutting the ropes – trying to avoid letting his eyes wander over Dean’s exquisitely nude form – his brother asked, “How long’s it been?”

“You’ve been missing for almost two days. I picked up her trail yesterday, but couldn’t pinpoint which house she had you in.” He got through the second rope and then went to the foot of the bed to work on releasing Dean’s ankles.

“I guess it’s a good thing she wasn’t in a rush then,” Dean said as he sat up and rubbed some life back into his wrists, grimacing as the blood made its way back into them.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

As Dean got dressed in the bedroom, Sam paced up and down the length of the long, narrow hallway, trying to avoid looking at the family pictures hanging on the wall as he did. (Most likely the whole family had been killed by the succubus.)

The taste of Dean still lingered on his lips and he let his tongue pass over them. That was the hottest, most fucked up thing he’d ever done. His brother had been right. When he walked into that room and saw the demon positioned over Dean, getting ready to take him, Sam had panicked. And then he’d fucking kissed his brother…and Dean didn’t try killing him after. Actually, Dean had kissed back. _That_ had certainly not been expected. Sam was still trying to figure that one out.

“You ready to salt-and-burn this bitch?”

Sam jumped at the unexpected sound of Dean’s voice and tripped up on his feet just a little; he hoped his brother didn’t notice. “Yeah, what do y-” When he turned around to face the man, he stuttered, eyes widening at the sight; Dean had no shirt on and Sam stared at his well-defined chest – and, oh Christ, those freckles that were dusted ever so lightly over his shoulders – for just a little too long. “Um, what do you want to wrap her in to get her out to the car?” He saw Dean smirk at his hiccup. _Shit._

“Yeah, Ms. Nebraska sort of ruined my shirt,” Dean said as he stood outside the bedroom door; his moss green eyes had a knowing gleam in them. “I got another in the car I can put on though. – And I’ve already taken care of rolling her up in a sheet. I figure I’ll just back the car up into the garage so no one sees us getting her in it and then we’ll find some woods where we can take care of the rest.”

Dean was acting way too normal, almost as if nothing had happened. Sam didn’t exactly know how to respond to that.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

After the salt-and-burn, they had to stop for gas on the way back to the motel. As Dean was getting out of the car, Sam opened his door to get out as well.

“I’ll take care of paying,” he said. “There’s a couple of things I want to get while we’re here.”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, okay. While you’re in there, pick me up a bag of M&Ms, the ones with the peanuts in ‘em, and see if they have some of those little yellow things with the cream in the middle.”

“You mean Twinkies?” Dean and his damn junk food. Sam couldn’t figure out where it all went. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on the man.

“Who named them that? Really. They sound like gay cupcakes.”

“Jesus, Dean. Say it a little louder.” But Sam laughed. The man was just unreal sometimes. He wondered where his brother came up with that shit.

Sam spent less than ten minutes in the store (more than half of which he stood in line while some old lady with curlers in her hair bought what seemed like one of every scratch off ticket the store had to offer) and then he made his way back out to the Impala where Dean was waiting, resting against the side of the car while tapping a rhythm on its gleaming roof with his fingers.

The sun beat down on the older man, highlighting his hair and bringing out the hidden blond that had been much more noticeable in his younger years…and his eyes sparkled a brilliant emerald green in the late afternoon light. Sam had to hold back on the urge to repeat the kiss from earlier; it was just too tempting to walk around the car and try it again. He wasn’t sure what Dean would do though, probably kick his ass, or at the very least, punch him.

He cleared his throat as he approached the car. “I had them put thirty on the pump. Oh, and you lucked out on the Twinkies. One box left.” Sam tossed the plastic bag through the open window onto the front seat and leaned up against the side of the car, looking over the roof at Dean as he proceeded to pump the gas.

A shrill cat call sounded out from a passing car and Dean glowered at it. “Does every guy out there have to be a pig?” He watched the beat up Pontiac driving down the road until it got swept up in traffic.

Sam laughed and lifted an eyebrow. “Seriously? That’s like the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Yeah, but now I’ve got myself a little sister.”

“What the hell difference does that make?” Sam stood up straight, his laugh falling away as he challenged Dean to answer that one.

“It just does,” the man mumbled.

“So you mean you’re gonna stop trying to get into the pants of every girl you come in contact with…just because you have a _sister_?”

“Sam…” The word came out with a warning growl.

“No, Dean. I wanna hear this one out.” Dean could huff and puff as much as he wanted, but Sam wanted to hear what his brother had to say. “How are things different now?” he pushed, wanting to know the answer.

“What are you, PMS’ing or something? Christ, Sammy. I hope you bought some tampons while you were inside. Sounds like you’re gonna need ‘em.”

Sam narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together into a tight line, all the while glaring at his chauvinistic big brother.

“Don’t look at me like that, Samantha. It’s only natural…once a month, kiddo.” Dean grinned like there was nothing wrong and then his attention got pulled away from their conversation when the gas pump clicked to a stop. He pulled the nozzle out of the car and replaced it on the pump, then screwed the gas cap back in place before flipping the license plate back up.

The younger Winchester was stunned into silence. Without another word, he turned and quietly got into the car. Sam was fuming and he knew if he opened his mouth out here in public, either one or both of them would probably enjoy the evening in a jail cell of their choice.

He might have slammed the car door a little harder than called for.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

The short trip back to the motel was made in absolute, bitter silence; Dean didn’t even bother to put the radio on. The Impala was brought to a stop in front of the paint-chipped door to their room (the number 2 on the 12 hung upside down by one nail) and neither brother moved for a time.

Dean chanced a glance at Sam; his brother wouldn’t look at him. He didn’t really feel the need to apologize. Things were different now that Sam was a girl, at least from his perspective. He knew first-hand how girls – _women_ – who looked like Sam were preyed upon by men. And hunting? Well, that was gonna be another thing entirely. Sam got lucky today with the succubus, but who knew what the future held? Not many women were able to handle the constant physical demands of the job. Don’t get him wrong. He had a lot of respect for women, seen them do some pretty damn amazing things, including hunt. Dean was only trying to make sure his brother was safe. How could he make Sam understand that without setting him off again?

“Look, Sam-” he started to explain.

Sam got out of the car without bothering to listen to what Dean had to say. He grabbed the bag from the convenience store as he did, and stormed up to the motel room, keying the door open somewhat rougher than necessary, then disappeared inside.

“Definitely PMS,” Dean muttered under his breath as he got out of the car and followed his brother into the room. Sam was going to get an earful when he caught up to him, even if he had to tie the kid down.

He certainly wasn’t expecting what happened when he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

Dean was abruptly tackled onto the floor with a solid “oomph” as the wind was knocked from his lungs. His arm was immediately wrenched behind his back rather painfully and then he felt a bony knee dig into the small of his back. “What the fuck, Sam?” He spit carpet fibers and whatnot out of his mouth, having practically made out with the floor when he crashed down under Sam’s weight. _Sam was so gonna pay for this._ “Get offa me!” The hold his brother had on his arm kept Dean from throwing Sam off; the younger Winchester also had a thumb dug into the pressure point on his wrist and it hurt like a mother fucker.

“I might be a damn girl now, but the hell if you’re gonna treat me any different. I saved your sorry ass today. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be that succubus’ bitch right now. – And remember, Dean, you’re the goddamn reason I _am_ a girl. Don’t you forget that,” Sam growled close to Dean’s ear.

Even though Sam was pissed, Dean found himself getting turned on from this whole thing. He felt his traitorous dick start to come to life in his pants. His hormones might have been talking, but he was furious now. “How could I forget that, Sam? I’m reminded of that every day when I see you,” he said through gritted teeth.

“You know what, Dean. Forget it. This isn’t worth it.” Sam released his grip on his brother and started to get up. That had been a mistake.

Dean was up so fast that Sam didn’t even have time to react. The younger hunter found himself being slammed, face first, into the stained paisley wallpaper next to the door. Dean’s hard body pressed in against him and held him there. _Holy crap was that his brother’s cock digging into his lower back_? Sam struggled, but the more he did, the tighter and the more painful Dean’s grip became.

“Lemme go, Dean!” Sam tried to buck back into his brother, but it was useless. His strength (or lack thereof) was no match for Dean, not anymore. His brother had always been the stronger of the two of them, but Sam had always had the better reach, and he was quicker, too. Now Dean had him beat in all three categories.

“Don’t you _ever_ do that to me again, Sam. I was trying to talk to you out in the car, explain myself like you wanted me to. You couldn’t even give me that courtesy. Instead, you pull this shit?” _Fuck, if Sam didn’t stop grinding back into his dick._

“Dean, I’m-”

“No, it’s my turn now. You wanna play like this, I’m game.”

Sam suddenly found his wrists being clasped together behind his back in the tight grip of one of Dean’s hands. “Christo.” He twisted in Dean’s hold as he said the word.

Dean’s actually laughed at that. “Nope. Sorry. – Now, let me get this out. – Yes, I’m treating you different because you’re my sister now. Whether you like it or not, you _are_ more vulnerable like this – in case you haven’t noticed, you’re like half the size you were before – so of course I’m going to be a little more protective of you now. I’m entitled to it as your big brother; it’s my job, always has been.

“And I _don’t_ like guys like me leering at you, wanting to get in your pants. It can get dangerous. Just look at what happened last week…and I was there with you.”

Sam began to settle down. He knew Dean wouldn’t really hurt him. The man just wanted him to listen. Dean’s mouth was right at Sam’s ear now, light puffs of air tickling at his neck. Sam felt a wet warmth down between his legs. _Jesus, was he getting wet over this?_ But then again, a certain part of Dean was still pressing into his back _. Leave it to the Brothers Winchester to be turned on by a situation like this._

And then Sam was spun around to face Dean. There was a darkness in his brother’s eyes; his pupils were blown out leaving only a thin ring of green, hardly even noticeable. Sam was no longer being held, but he didn’t move, barely even breathed for that matter. He was struck dumb when Dean suddenly leaned in and claimed his mouth.

Sam felt his knees give, but Dean held him up as he licked his way into his brother’s mouth. It was messy and hard at first, teeth crashing and neither connecting quite right with the other, but soon their tongues found each other, sliding together, dueling with each other, each of them wanting more of the other.

The younger Winchester reached up and hooked a hand around Dean’s neck, drawing him in further. With the other hand, he palmed Dean’s hard cock through his pants eliciting a quiet groan from the man into their kiss.

Sam squeaked when Dean reached around and grasped the underside of his ass, lifting him into the air. He instinctively wrapped his legs around the man’s waist and held on, both hands now on the back of Dean’s neck, fingers running up through and gripping his short hair. He could also feel Dean’s dick right _there. Oh, mother in Heaven, he was going to die._ If he thought the kiss from earlier was hot, this one was on fire.

Then the soft mattress of the bed met with Sam’s back as Dean laid him down. They separated, panting, breathing in each other’s air. Both brothers held still and stared at one another, unspoken words passing between them. And then Sam nodded, giving Dean the permission he was searching for.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

The heat Dean felt in his groin had to be hellfire. But right now, he didn’t give a shit. Sam was all wanton under him as Dean held himself up on his arms, hands sinking into the mattress to either side of the younger Winchester’s slender body. His brother was just beautiful like this, looking up at him through heavy-lidded eyes.

Sam had just given him the go ahead and Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so hard (succubus aside). He sat up on his knees and palmed himself. _No reason to hide that now_. He stripped himself of his overshirt and t-shirt, tossing them somewhere behind him on the floor, and then pulled a dazed Sam upright. Within seconds he had Sam’s shirt up and over his head, leaving him with the swell of his breasts heaving in the lacey, red bra which he wore. (Leave it to Sam to pick out the damn red one.)

It was picture perfect, Sam beneath him like that, all wanting and needy. “You’re sure about this?” When Dean received a quiet and breathy “yes” in response, he reached around his brother and unclipped the undergarment, peeling it away, leaving Sam naked from the waist up. “Fuck, you’re hot, Sammy.” And then Dean pushed his brother back down to the bed. He leaned over and licked a wet stripe up the middle of Sam’s breasts, tasting the salt of earlier sweat from the day’s activities. He cupped Sam’s right breast, squeezing it, as he laved over to the left and toyed with the taut, dusky-colored nipple between his teeth.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Sam’s hands reached down and clasped onto Dean’s shoulders. The sensations were almost too much as Dean gave his undivided attention to his sensitive nipples. His whole body felt electrified under his brother’s expert touches and he wanted more. “Dean, I need… Please.”

Dean was trailing open-mouthed kisses across his stomach now and stopped, looking up at him, blowing a cool breath over the wet skin as he did, causing goosebumps to form. He trembled with anticipation when Dean began to unfasten his pants and watched as the man backed off the bed and pulled his jeans and underwear off in one deft move.

The air felt cool between his legs, washing over the heat that had built up there like a furnace and Sam shivered. Dean was over him once more, laving at his neck, sucking at the sweet spot behind his ear. Then he felt it – Dean’s questing fingers between his legs, rubbing through the slick of his juices – and he whimpered.

When a finger slid up into his tight, virgin hole, Sam gasped, “Oh fuck, Dean!” He really didn’t know what he was expecting; it was so different, the slip-slide of Dean’s digit in and out of him. But if he thought that was something, his whole body jolted as his brother thumbed over his clit. “Holy shit!” And Dean didn’t stop.

The elder hunter lifted his head from his brother’s neck and smiled down at him. “I’m guessing you like that?”

“God, Dean. Fuck.” Sam closed his eyes and wet his lips as he rocked up into Dean’s teasing touches, feeling his body starting to tense. And shit, Dean stopped all of a sudden and his weight lifted away. “Wha-” As Sam started to look down, he was left babbling when his brother’s tongue touched him _there_. “Oh…Oh, shit!” His fingers clutched in a death grip on the comforter.

Sam was moving so much that Dean had to reach up to hold him still with a hand. Dean’s tongue pushed into his heat and lapped at him, swirling around, tickling anything and everything down there. Sam was left breathless; he couldn’t take any more. Dean shifted and slipped a long finger back into him and the next thing he did left Sam in a frenzy. His tongue touched down and flicked over Sam’s sensitive nub repeatedly.

“Oh my fucking god!” Every muscle in Sam’s body felt like it had seized up and his toes curled as his orgasm rose wave after wave through him. He felt a clenching sensation between his legs and Dean’s finger was still pumping in and out of him. His brother gave a final suck at his clit and Sam cried out. “No more, please. I can’t take it.”

Sam’s chest was heaving and his body felt like Jell-O in his post-orgasmic state. _Holy crap! That’s what girls feel?_ And then he started to smile. This was just way off the grid. To get this from a woman’s perspective? Just wow. He would’ve never figured it felt like that.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Dean just about blew his load in his pants as Sam came. It was a thing of beauty knowing it was his first time coming like that. He rose up to his feet and stared down at his blissed out brother. He wanted so badly to take his pants off and sink into Sam, but he just couldn’t for too many reasons. The biggest one being that, yes, they might have done what they just did, but there was no going back after sex.

He palmed himself again and cringed at the nearly painful touch. Sam must have noticed it because he looked up at Dean with lust-blown eyes.

“Dean, aren’t you…? You can. I mean, what we just did... It’s okay.”

“No, Sammy. I’ll take care of it. I'm sure you were up all night looking for me. You should get some rest.”

“But-”

“Sleep, Sam. Anyway, I think you could use it after that.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite make it to his eyes.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Sam watched quietly as Dean turned and walked silently into the bathroom, closing the door gently behind him. _Why wouldn’t Dean go any further?_ Sam was certainly okay with it. He rolled over and sighed. A mixture of contentedness and concern filled him.

Before he knew what he was doing, Sam was across the room and opening the unlocked bathroom door. Dean was standing there, looking a little – Sam didn’t even know how to explain that look – lost?

“Sam, no,” Dean said quietly, almost pleadingly, keeping his eyes turned away from Sam’s naked figure. “We shouldn’t be doing this. I never should have-”

“Dean, let me.” Without giving Dean a chance to refuse, Sam reached down to unfasten his brother’s jeans and pulled them down along with his boxer briefs, being careful not to jar the man’s aching flesh. He dropped to his knees and tentatively licked a wet line up his brother’s hardened length from root to tip.

Dean swayed above him and threw a hand out to support himself on the bathroom counter. “Shit, Sam,” he groaned, his argument quickly forgotten. “You gotta suck it. Won’t take long.”

Sam pulled back and looked at the weeping head of his brother’s cock. He lapped at the pearly bead of cum at the slit and let Dean’s flavor settle on his tongue, deciding quickly that he liked the taste of the man. Then he swirled his tongue around the ridge of the crown and sucked his brother down. In his haste, he took too much in, too fast, and gagged a little before he found a comfortable rhythm for both of them.

Reaching up and under, Sam took Dean’s balls in hand and gave them a gentle squeeze as he bobbed his head up and down, hollowing his cheeks and pressing his tongue into the thick vein along the underside of his brother’s shaft.

Dean was right. It didn’t take long. Sam felt the twitch of Dean’s cock in his mouth, the tell-tale sign of his brother’s pending orgasm. As much as he could without choking, Sam moved quicker and opened his throat to take the man in further.

“Sam!” Dean gasped. “Fuck, yeah, little brother.” He bucked forward into Sam’s eager mouth and the hand he wasn’t holding onto the counter with flew down and clenched into his brother’s shoulder bruisingly. With a cry that could probably be heard several rooms away, Dean came, spurting his hot release down Sam’s throat. “God… Fuck.” He shivered as Sam pulled away and licked him clean.

Dean tugged Sam up to his feet. His brother wiped at his mouth and smiled all too prettily, hazel lost to black in his eyes. “C’mere.” Dean pulled him in for a kiss; it was hot and dirty as he tasted himself on Sam. When they pulled apart, he smirked. “Now I think it’s time for bed.”

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Sam tugged on an old t-shirt and boxers and crossed the room to climb into Dean’s bed. He was still coming down from the high of _Dean_ getting him off and of _him_ getting Dean off. Just as he was pulling the covers back, he heard Dean call his name.

“Sam, I, um, think I just need a night. You mind?”

Sam looked from Dean to the bed, and then back to Dean. He had been looking forward to a night of cuddling with the man, but he’d respect his wishes. After all, this wasn’t just some small thing. They were brothers and they were doing some pretty fucked up things, things he was okay with, but apparently Dean still needed some extra time to come to terms with what they’d just done.

“Oh, yeah. Sure. Whatever.” He tried not to sound hurt, wasn’t sure if he accomplished that, but he turned and slipped into his own bed.

He heard Dean double-checking the salt lines and then a few minutes later the lights clicked off. The rustle of blankets and the creak of bed springs told him when Dean finally settled down for the night.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Dean woke up to the smell of fresh coffee permeating the air. He didn’t want to get up, didn’t want to face the repercussions of what had happened last night, but he knew he couldn’t stay in bed all day either. They had planned to check out of the room this morning and needed to be out by eleven.

Kicking the blankets off the lower half of his body, Dean sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, dropping his feet to the floor. He needed to get up to take a leak. “Mornin’, Sam.” A wide yawn escaped from him before he finished Sam’s name.

“Good, I was gonna wake you in five minutes if you weren’t up. I got another job lined up just over the border in Iowa. You think you’re up for it?”

“Dude, what the hell time’d you get up?” Dean scratched his head and looked at the clock. It was only a little before nine.

“Since, I don’t know, six or so. Anyway, Bobby found it, e-mailed the info over.”

“What’ve we got this time?” Dean rubbed at his face, still trying to wake up and see clearly.

Sam looked at the computer and clicked on something. “Um, something called a vodianoi.”

“What the hell is that? Why can’t we just do a simple ghost or something?” Dean asked as he got up and crossed the room.

“Well,” Sam sipped his coffee and swallowed, “I offered you a vengeful spirit last time, but you picked the succubus. I’m sure that job’s already been taken care of by someone else by now. – Anyway, to answer your question, a vodianoi is a water spirit who drowns people who piss it off.”

“Wonderful.” Dean walked into the bathroom and closed the door.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Dean decided to take a quick shower and also took the time to shave away the last couple of days’ worth of facial hair while he was in the bathroom. He came out a while later and quickly slipped into some clothing. “So which one of us gets to piss it off?”

Sam snorted and lifted an eyebrow. “I would think that’s fairly obvious.” He watched as his brother finished getting dressed and then came over to sit down across from him.

“Awesome,” Dean deadpanned. “So you already give up on finding a fix for yourself, or what?” He pulled the tab to his coffee open and took a deep draught of the black liquid, giving a refreshed sigh as he swallowed.

“No. Actually, I’ve been giving that some thought.” Sam looked down at the computer, knowing Dean was going to have a shit fit when he told him what he was thinking.

“Okay. And…?”

“I think we should find a hoodoo priestess. There’s some lore about them being able to-”

Dean stood up from the table, nearly knocking it over. He caught his coffee at the last second before it spilled across the laminate surface. “Have you lost your fucking mind, Sam? Absolutely not! – We’ll go to Bobby before we do something like that. I don’t give a shit how embarrassed you are. And you shouldn’t be. Crap happens in our line of work. He’ll understand.”

“They can’t all be bad, Dean. There’s gotta be one out there who’d be willing to help us.” Then Sam added a little something that could possibly sway Dean’s vote on the idea. “Plus, do you really want Bobby to find out how bad you screwed up and that this is all your fault?”

“Anyone ever tell you what a pain in the ass you are?”

“Yeah, you do. All the time.” Sam smirked.

Dean took another sip of his coffee. He gave Sam’s idea some thought, mulled over it and tried to see it from a different perspective. He couldn’t. The whole idea was stupid and just dangerous. “I don’t like it, Sam. I’ll find something else if I have to.”

“Well, you let me know when you do. I’ll give it until the end of the month. Three weeks, Dean, and then we’re heading to Louisiana.”

“Fine. But if you get your ass turned into a lizard or something worse, like a Pomeranian, don’t expect me to come saving you. I’m only good for the ‘girl’ thing.” He smiled and reached into the bag on the table, pulling out a glazed doughnut. He looked up just in time to dodge a pen Sam threw at him.

They were both keeping their distance from the large, pink and purple, polka-dotted elephant in the room. Winchesters were notoriously good at doing that.


	4. Chapter 4

The drive to Harlan, Iowa was a quick two hour ride in their book. Well, time-wise it was quick, but it felt like ten times that for Sam. As soon as they had gotten in the car, Dean had stuffed a mix tape of mullet rock into the cassette player, then pulled his sunglasses from the glove compartment and hid himself away behind them. It was the older man’s way of saying he wasn’t really in the mood to talk.

About halfway into the ride, Dean’s silence had chewed Sam’s nerves raw and he reached over to lower the volume on the radio; he wanted to know what was bothering his brother. _Was he regretting what they had done last night?_ As soon as his hand left the volume button, Dean reached over and put it back where it had been. Sam glanced over at his brother and the man only looked back at him; aside from the firm set of his jaw, his expression was mostly hidden by the dark shades. And then he looked back to the road ahead of them without saying anything. Dean was shutting him out. Sam only shook his head and stared out the window at the passing scenery…corn fields, one right after the other, maybe a stray tractor or two.

Sam had spent a good portion of the trip leafing through Bobby’s info on the water spirit, or at least trying to. Dean’s brooding silence had kept him from being able to concentrate much. The man’s mood had changed so suddenly this morning that Sam’s head was still spinning. They had been fine one minute, talking about Sam’s problem, the upcoming hunt, even cracking some jokes, and then the next minute Dean was out the door saying he had to go for a walk. _And Dean always said Sam was the moody one…_

While Dean had been out on his ‘walk’, Sam found a grainy picture of a vodianoi on the internet; it was the only thing Bobby had been lacking in his notes, but the man’s description hadn’t been far off from what he was looking at…and what he saw had him swallowing tightly. It was more or less half serpent, half man, much like the echidnas from old Greek mythology. They were going to have their hands full with this job.

When Dean had gotten back from his personal outing, Sam spun the laptop around and showed him the picture. Dean’s only comment had been, “Well, Sammy, you’re the one who wanted to prove he could keep hunting without certain man bits.”

The remark should have stung, but there was no real bite to his brother’s tone. The words almost sounded hollow when Dean had said them.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

It was only one-thirty when Dean gracefully swung the Impala into an empty parking spot at a local diner in Harlan. Both men were hungry; doughnuts and coffee weren’t exactly the most fulfilling breakfast.

As they ate – Dean his bacon cheeseburger and Sam his Cobb salad – there was a mild tension floating in the air between them, barely noticeable to anyone but the brothers. Neither finished their meals which said something in and of itself. Dean kept himself hidden behind a newspaper for the most part and Sam busied himself on the laptop. Eventually Dean stood up, drinking down the last of his soda before tossing a couple of bills on the table.

He knew he was treating Sam like shit, felt horrible for it because Sam didn’t deserve it, but he had to for both of their sakes. Last night he had finally caved, given in to his desires, and had done things to his brother that should have never happened, and then he’d buckled again only minutes later and had let Sam reciprocate. Dean had to backpedal out of this and keep his distance no matter how much it hurt the both of them. What they were doing, it just wasn’t right, not in anyone’s books.

This morning had seemed to be running smoothly, neither of them mentioning anything from the previous night – _yeah, running about as smoothly as a runaway train about to jump the rails_ –and Dean still couldn’t figure out when it had happened, when he’d gone from just hanging out with his brother talking about the hunt and Sam’s issue to him staring at his brother’s pouty lips with searing memories of them wrapped around his dick flooding his mind. Within seconds he was out the door letting the cold morning air bring his heated thoughts to ground.

“You ready?” he asked as he stuffed his wallet into his pocket and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair.

“Yeah, I guess,” Sam responded despondently as he closed the laptop and pushed back to stand up.

“Alright. Motel’s up the street. We’ll get settled in and get a game plan for this mermaid or whatever it is.”

Dean made quick work in getting them a room. The guy at the counter in the motel’s office seemed just as happy to get him out of there so he could get back to the porn he had hidden between the folds of the automotive magazine he so blatantly tried to make it look like he was reading. That suited Dean perfectly fine, especially when the man didn’t bother to check the name on the credit card he was using.

When he got their door open, he lifted an eyebrow. They’d stayed in some crazy places before and this one definitely fit the bill. It looked like disco had exploded in the room. He should’ve known it would be something weird. The name of the motel was ‘Night Fever’ and the sign was an oversized disco ball.

The wallpaper was some kind of crazy foil that looked like disco lights streaking across a silver background and there were black silhouettes of people striking the trademark John Travolta pose from ‘Saturday Night Fever’ on every wall. Vinyl records were hanging along the walls just below the ceiling; some were chipped, while others looked somewhat playable if anyone still had a record player in their possession. The comforters on the beds were sequined with a rainbow array of colors, and to top it all off, the ceilings were mirrored.

Their moods forgotten for the moment, both brothers just stopped and stared.

Sam bumped into Dean from behind when his brother suddenly stopped moving forward. “Holy shit. Just when you thought you’ve seen it all.” A wide grin lit up his face and he laughed.

Dean moved out of the way, letting Sam into the room so they could close the door. “You know, we might not even have to put the lines down while we’re here. I’m not sure a demon would want to come in here. – You got your go-go boots, Sammy?”

“Yeah, right,” Sam snickered. “I’ll get movin’ on that just as soon as you unpack your white polyester suit.”

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle at the mental image of him and Sam dressed up like that. You never knew what a job might call for someday.

“Well,” Dean walked over to the bed closest to the door and dumped his stuff off, “I think we should head out to the mill while it’s early, scope the place out. We’ll rest up tonight and then take care of this job in the morning.”

Sam looked at him like he had something on his mind, but he just said, “Yeah, if that’s what you wanna do.”

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

“So tell me again how we plan on killing this thing.” Dean glanced over at Sam and then back out the windshield. They were getting close to the mill and were now driving down a dirt road. He grimaced every time he heard a rock _ping_ off the paint of the car.

“Bobby says decapitation works, also a silver stake to the heart…or I guess silver bullets could get the job done, too. Same thing, right?”

“Let’s start with the silver bullets. That way we don’t have to get close to the damn thing. The last thing we wanna do is end up in the water with this.”

Dean hadn’t really said anything since Sam had told him about this job, but he didn’t like water hunts. Too much was out of their control and too much could go wrong. They were both good swimmers, but that didn’t make shit’s difference if you were knocked out cold or wrapped in some god-awful creature’s tentacles as it pulled you under. This vodianoi didn’t look too promising. They’d have to watch themselves.

The mill came into sight and Dean pulled the Impala up alongside it. The doors creaked as they got out and then again as they closed them.

“So this is it?” Dean stood there, a cool, late winter breeze tickling through his short hair as he took in the layout of the grounds.

The mill itself was an old, two-story, wooden structure; most of its windows had long ago been broken out. A large water wheel was attached to its side; the paddles that remained were worn and partially rotted out. Out on the perimeter of the softly rippling waters, tall reeds rustled in the wind. The pond itself, Dean noted, couldn’t have been more than two hundred feet by a hundred, hundred-fifty feet, and water trickled from it over a small dam at the far end into a stream which ran off to who knew where. One of the more disturbing things about the place was that it was quiet, too quiet. Not even a bird chirped in the distance.

Sam stepped around to the front of the car and stared out over the waters. “Yeah. Bobby said people have randomly been going missing here for years. No one knows when it really started. The town blames it on a sink hole at the bottom of the pond, but no one’s really looked into it from what I can find. They just put up ‘No Trespassing’ signs telling people to stay clear of the property and hope it’s enough.

“The witness statement said that the seventeen year old vic was making fun of some old guy who was sitting on the dock. I guess that’s it over there,” Sam pointed to a rickety wooden structure on the other side of the mill. “They figured he was a vagrant living in the old mill, that he had no more right to be here than them. Both boys had been surprised when the man turned to look at them and quietly said, ‘You will die’, and then disappeared into the water. They were a little disturbed by the guy’s behavior and didn’t stick around to see where he went. As they gathered up their things to leave, the ‘crazy ass mother fucker’ – the witness’ words, not mine – reared up behind them out of the water and grabbed the vic, pulling him into the pond, never to be seen again.

“The witness confessed that he and his friend had both come out here drinking and might have been a little less than sober. The cops put it all down to a drunken drowning. They searched the waters for a body, but never found anything.”

Dean eyed the murky waters. They reminded him of the case up in Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin a couple of years ago. “What makes Bobby think it’s not a spirit like that Sweeney kid out in Wisconsin?”

“Because the witness swore he saw the thing in its entirety as it disappeared under the water with his friend. He described it as a huge, serpentine creature with webbed fingers, and long, wild hair. Sounds a lot like what’s in that picture I showed you this morning.”

“You got the kid’s name? We should go talk to him, make sure they weren’t smokin’ something, too.” Dean walked towards the pond, his booted feet chafing through the long, dry grass. He stopped a few feet from the edge of the water.

“We can’t,” Sam said as he came up and stopped next to his brother. “The family moved out of state shortly after. The kid was pretty traumatized by it all; he was younger, only fifteen.”

Dean stooped to pick up a rock and threw it out into the center of the pond, just to see what would happen.

“Um, Dean. We didn’t really come prepared. Maybe you shouldn’t do that.”

“What? You worried Mr. Limpet is gonna come up and eat me?” He smirked. “Alright, c’mon. Let’s get outta here.”

As they turned and headed back to the car, neither brother saw the head appear in the water, piercing blue eyes staring at them. About thirty feet behind it, the water rippled and the fins of a tail surfaced briefly.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

The afternoon slowly wore on to evening, which in turn, crept towards night. Sam was sitting on his bed, beer in hand and a bag of Hershey kisses at his side. For the last couple of days, he’d been craving chocolate; that’s what he’d gone into the store to get yesterday before everything between him and Dean blew up and well…

Dean was relaxing on his bed with a beer and his bag of M&Ms, and the two of them were watching ‘Young Frankenstein’. The movie was a friggin’ classic as far as they were both concerned.

Every now and then, Sam would risk a glance across the narrow space between the two beds, wishing Dean would invite him over, but knowing it wasn’t going to happen. Sam yearned for his brother’s touch, that’s all, nothing more. Dean hadn’t said anything about anything after they went to bed last night. And this morning Sam had kept mum on the subject, wanting to see how Dean was going to handle what had happened between the two of them. Apparently, his brother was going to deal with the whole thing in the good old-fashioned Winchester way, by not talking about it.

Dean was lying there in a tight, maroon-colored t-shirt, jeans, and socks; his boots and overshirt had been tossed into a haphazard pile on the floor beside the bed. A smile lit up his face every time Frau Blücher’s name was mentioned by someone and the horses would rear up and whinny; it happened all throughout the damn movie and was so ridiculous that it was actually pretty funny. Sam was happy to see his brother really laughing again. Doomsday was looming nearer with every passing day and they needed a break once in a while; they were only human.

His brother must have sensed him watching because just as Sam was washing down another chocolate kiss with a pull from his bottle, Dean looked over and asked, “What is it, Sam?”

“What?” Sam played dumb while he peeled the silver foil from another piece of chocolate and popped it into his mouth. He could see Dean’s eyes following every movement he made, right up through him licking the sticky sweetness from his fingers.

“If it’s about last night, there’s nothing we need to talk about.” Dean was cutting him off at the pass. “What happened, happened. And it’s not gonna happen again.”

“Dean-”

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

“Look,” Dean shifted on the bed so he could face Sam, pulling his right foot up under his left knee, “we both obviously had to get it out of our systems, but that doesn’t make what we did right. We’re _brothers_ , Sam, and brothers don’t do that shit.” _Rather,_ _big brothers don’t do that shit to their little brothers, little brothers they’re supposed to protect and look after, even if they’re magically turned into one of the hottest fucking women he’d ever laid his eyes on._ Dean pushed up from the bed then, not leaving room for argument. “You want another beer?”

He knew it was too easy to think Sam wasn’t going to want to talk about their previous night’s ‘activities’. Dean just wanted to shove them under the rug – maybe nail the rug down after with iron nails and line it with salt – and try to put blinders on for the remaining time his brother was his _sister._

If he had let Sam into his bed last night… _Shit, that would’ve been bad._ He _knew_ he would have fucked his brother senseless. After that mind-numbing blow job Sam had given him, Dean hadn’t really been thinking too straight, not with his upstairs brain anyway. At least he had had _some_ sense left. He might be going to Hell, but there were certain circles he didn’t want to find himself in when he got there.

Dean went over to the mini bar and snagged two beers out of it. He tossed one of the bottles over to Sam as he returned to his bed and sat down again. “Movie’s almost over.” It was Dean’s way of kindly telling Sam he didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

The quicker they could put this thing behind them, the better for all involved.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Dean was still awake when Sam finally nodded off, the now almost empty bag of Hershey kisses still clutched in his hand. The kid had fallen asleep just before the end credits for the movie began to roll. Sam was upset; he always got so emotional about things and what they’d done was seriously messing with the both of them.

If Sam hadn’t found anything on this ‘curse’, then Dean knew he didn’t have a shot in hell of finding something. His brother’s idea of going to a hoodoo priestess…well, that just wasn’t gonna happen. Witches, priestesses, whatever…you go to one of them and you’ll end up with _both_ man bits and girl bits, and maybe some animal bits, too, that’s all if you didn’t end up dead. Dean didn’t trust them, not at all.

Dean moved to the edge of the bed, picked up his overshirt and tugged it on, and then pushed his feet into his shoes. He got up and quietly crossed the room, grabbing his jacket. With one last look over his shoulder to make sure Sam hadn’t heard him, he slipped out of the room and into the chilly night.

He walked until he reached the end of the building and then pulled his phone out. It was late, but Dean knew the man would still be up. He turned his phone on, the screen lighting up his face in the darkness, and dialed. Sam was going to kill him, but it was the only thing he knew to do at this point; they needed help on this one.

“Yeah?” the familiar, gruff voice of Bobby Singer came through the line.

“Hey, Bobby.”

“Dean? Everything okay with you boys? It’s pretty late. You’re down in Iowa hunting that vodianoi, right?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Going down to the millpond tomorrow to take care of the job.”

“Well, you be careful with that thing. They’re slippery bastards. Never dealt with one myself, but I know someone who did. Still talks about it to this day.”

“Sounds like oodles of fun.”

“Why you callin’, son? You don’t sound like your normal splendidly happy self.”

Dean glanced back at the room and then leaned against the wall, watching the few cars that were still out pass by. “It’s Sam, Bobby.”

“What’s wrong with him this time? You two have another of your little spats? He didn’t run off, did he?”

He swallowed. “I, um, sorta fucked up getting rid of that Vila.”

“How in the hell did you do that? You had that banishing spell I gave you, didn’t you?”

“It was raining out; it got wet.”

“Well, that’s bound to happen, ya idjit. She’s a damn weather spirit. You shoulda had it memorized.” Dean rolled his eyes. If one more person told him he should have memorized that damn banishment spell… “So what happened?”

“Well, she’s dead, but I might’ve sorta turned Sam into Samantha while I was at it.”

“You what?” Bobby sputtered exasperatedly through the line. “This better be one of your damn fool jokes, boy. Something like that’s not possible.”

“Well, it is. Sam’s now officially my sister, has been for almost two weeks now.”

Things got quiet for a while between the two men, neither speaking.

“Bobby, please, we need your help. Sam’s been researching what he can, but he hasn’t been able to come up with anything. Maybe you can find something in that library of yours.”

“Dean… Christ, son-”

“Sam wants to go to a hoodoo priestess. He says if we don’t figure it out by the end of the month, he’s gonna do it.”

“Shit. I know he’s desperate if he’s sayin’ something like that.”

“I’m not gonna let that happen, Bobby. That’s why I’m calling you. He doesn’t know I am, so make sure he doesn’t find out, okay?”

“Yeah, alright. But Dean,” Bobby sounded resigned, “I’m being honest with you, I’ve never heard of this happening before, let alone how to undo it. – Is Sam okay? I mean… Damn, Dean.”

“He’s getting by. Obviously, we’re still hunting since we’re here. I’m just stepping up my game a little since he’s like a foot shorter than he was and I could probably snap him like a twig.”

“If this wasn’t so serious, I’d almost pay to see him as a _her_. He must’ve shit his pants when it happened. I hope he kicked your ass for it.” There was a touch of humor in the old hunter’s voice.

Dean chuckled softly. “Yeah, he’s already kicked my ass, quite efficiently, too. And he _is_ quite the looker. I’ve already had to get one guy off him.”

“Go figure. – Alright, so if I’m gonna look into this, you’re gonna have to tell me exactly what you did to do this to that poor brother of yours.”

“Shit, Bobby, make me feel worse about it.” But Dean proceeded to tell Bobby everything that had happened that night and, most importantly, the Latin words that had been said.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Sam was in the shower when it happened.  A thin trickle of blood trailed down his leg and washed away with the hot water down the drain. “Oh, shit,” he mumbled, knowing exactly what it was. That would explain the cramps he’d woken up to. And he had _nothing_ to use. Dean was right, he should have picked up some damn tampons while at the store, but for some reason he didn’t think about _it_ actually happening to him.

He finished washing and got out of the shower, grabbing a wad of toilet paper from the roll to hold _there_ until he could figure something out. Sam opened the cabinet below the sink, hoping beyond hope that the motel provided something for emergencies. Nothing. “Dude, really?” he mumbled, feeling his body heat up with embarrassment, knowing he was going to have to send Dean out to the store…only _after_ telling him about his predicament.

As if on cue, a knock sounded at the door. _Shit._ Sam stood up and spun around. “Hey, you leave me any hot water in there?” Dean called through the door.

“Yeah, you’re good. Just, um…” _How was he going to do this?_ “Shit, Dean, um…”

“Sam, y’okay?” Sam could hear a note of worry in his brother’s voice.

“Yeah, but Dean,” he cleared his throat, “I got _it._ ”

“Got what, Sammy?” His brother sounded confused.

“ _It.”_

There was silence.

Sam knew Dean could handle this in one of two ways; he’d either act like a grown up about it…or not.

It didn’t surprise Sam in the least when Dean took the ‘or not’ route. Of course he would; he wouldn’t be Dean if he didn’t. “Dude, you got your fucking period? Oh, man, I _knew_ you were PMS’ing the other day. I could just tell. You women get so bitchy when it’s just around the corner. And that explains the bag of chocolate you were inhaling last night.”

“Screw you.” Sam scowled at the door. “And really, have you actually been with a woman long enough?”

“Nah, I usually run. But I guess I can’t with you.”

“Whatever. –  Dean, I’m gonna need-”

“Oh, hell no. Seriously? You’re not gonna make me go out and buy that shit for you, are you?”

“I don’t have much of a choice.” Sam sighed and sat down on the toilet; he scrubbed his free hand over his face and swept his wet hair back over his shoulder. There was no answer from the man. Dean was going to make him beg. “Please, Dean.” He could picture his brother smirking on the other side of the thin door.

It took another minute, then Dean finally answered. “Yeah, alright. There’s a store across the street. I’ll see what I can find.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, but you’re gonna owe me.”

Sam heard Dean moving away from the bathroom. A few minutes later, the door to the motel room opened and closed. Thank god this was the only time he was going to have to deal with this. In another couple of weeks, this curse would be fixed. He didn’t care how, but it would be.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

The store had a variety pack ranging from ‘Ultra Thin’ to ‘Super Plus Absorbency’. Dean figured Sam could find something to satisfy his needs in that box. He also bought a six-pack and a girlie mag to ‘man up’ his purchase and thoroughly ignored the look on the cashier’s face when he paid.

When Dean had gotten back from the store with the carton of feminine products, Sam had only cracked the bathroom door open and reached a hand out, snatching it out of his hand and then slammed the door in his face before Dean could say ‘You’re welcome’.

He had to bite down extra hard on his lip to keep from smiling when Sam finally came out of the bathroom. _If there was ever a bitch face…_ Dean thought he could feel his insides starting to wither from that glare.

Without saying anything, Dean quickly went into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Honestly, he felt bad for Sam having to go through this because it was completely his fault that it was even happening in the first place. And all joking aside, they were here working a job and had more important things to worry about.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

As they were getting into the car, Dean stopped and looked over the roof at Sam. His brother hadn’t said more than a word to him since coming out of the bathroom. “Sam?”

Gold-flecked hazel burned back at him. “What?”

“I’m sorry, okay. I know this sucks, but we’re going into a hunt. I need to know you’re with me. If you’re not, I can go it alone. I’m not risking your ass by taking you out there if you can’t handle things.” Dean saw Sam tense up at his words and decided to clarify before his brother blew a gasket. “And I’m _not_ saying it’s because you’re a girl, or because you’re on your…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it so he lifted an eyebrow trying to get the word across to Sam that way. “So don’t go giving me that look. It’s because you’re not thinking straight; you’re pissed off and your head’s not clear. You know you can’t hunt like that.”

Sam’s shoulders slumped, the tension released. He looked off into the distance over Dean’s shoulder, then back at the man. “Sorry. It’s just, really, how much more embarrassing can this get? I mean, look at me, Dean.” He stepped away from the car and threw his hands out, gesturing to his body. “I’m a girl for cryin’ out loud! And I’m having my fucking period!” Tears clouded his vision and Dean’s image blurred in front of him. “I’m an emotional wreck right now. I feel so lost. And I _don’t_ really want to find some hoodoo priestess to fix me. But if we don’t… God, what happens if I’m stuck like this forever?” Shining droplets of moisture fell from his glistening eyes and left tracks down his cheeks. “And Dean, you have less than five months until…” Sam’s voice broke at that and he stopped talking. Turning away from Dean so his brother couldn’t see him, he leaned back against the car and he cried.

“Jesus, Sam.” Dean rounded the rear of the Impala and pulled Sam to him, wrapping his arms around his brother and holding him tight. “It’ll be okay. I gotcha. I’ll take care of you.” He kissed the crown of Sam’s head, feeling him tremble slightly in his arms. “We’ll figure it all out, okay? You, me, everything.” Sam nodded under his chin and Dean could feel him calming down as he settled against him.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Sam was actually _scared_ of being stuck like this. Sure he knew there were millions of women all over the world, but he wasn’t one of them. This wasn’t who he was.

He sniffled into Dean’s chest, feeling the comforting warmth of the man’s arms wrapped around him. Dean was his rock, his sanity. And Sam needed him more than ever right now. He could feel Dean’s fingers drifting up and down his spine through his jacket; the touch soothing him. He didn’t want to, but he finally pulled away, wiping the tear stains from his cheeks.

“Thanks, Dean.” He looked up at his brother (he was still getting used to being shorter than Dean); the corner of his mouth twitched with a hesitant smile and then disappeared almost as quickly.

Soft green eyes looked down at him. Sam didn’t think anyone but himself ever got to see the love those eyes could hold in them. It was something his brother kept hidden under his tough and rugged exterior. It wasn’t the first time, but Sam wondered what kind of man Dean would have been if hunting had never come into their lives, if that demon had never killed their mom, the same demon that was ultimately responsible for their father’s death, Sam’s death, and Dean’s deal.

“You good?” Dean asked, the sound of his voice calming Sam even further. Reaching over, Dean drifted a calloused thumb over the younger Winchester’s cheek, wiping another stray tear away.

“Yeah. I think so.” He nodded, finding himself leaning into the man’s touch.

“Okay, then. Sooo…we’ve got Long John Silver’s next ‘catch of the day’ on our menu. Let’s go kick this son of a bitch’s ass and then we’ll go grab some lunch after. What do you say?” He winked and grinned, mouth full of perfect, white teeth, and then turned to get into the car.

Sam managed a true smile then. They were Winchesters. Nothing had beaten them yet.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Dean parked the Impala in the same spot he did yesterday and they both got out. He popped the trunk lid open and both brothers gathered up their machetes, strapping the leather sheaths to their belts. They each took out a silver stake as well. Both had already loaded their guns with silver bullets before leaving the room.

“Sam?”

Sam looked over at Dean as he hid his stake in an interior pocket of his coat. “Yeah?”

“You be careful out there. Bobby says these things are pretty damn nasty.”

“When’d you talked to Bobby?”

 _Shit._ Dean slipped up on that one. “I, um, called him the other day about this thing. Just had a few questions is all. No big deal.” He shrugged.

Sam eyed him warily for a moment. “He have anything to say?”

 _Was there a double meaning to that question?_ “Nothing we didn’t already know, just to watch ourselves.”

“Alright. Well, you watch yourself then.”

Dean nodded and then reached up to close the trunk. He had caught the knowing look on Sam’s face; his brother was only letting him off the hook for now. They’d be talking about this later; he was sure of it. Dean looked at Sam one more time before stalking off to the too still waters. “Okay, you ugly son of a bitch! Dinner time!”

Sam laughed and shook his head. Dean was one crazy bastard…and he never felt safer. The ‘forgotten’ phone call to Bobby could be discussed later. Sam had to admit, _if_ Dean had indeed called the man for help, he was glad he did. Bobby might be Sam’s only chance at being _normal_ again.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Dean stared out over the muddy-colored water. Nothing happened. “Hey, fish face! I said get your smelly ass out here,” he continued to taunt as he started to walk around the perimeter of the pond. Nothing. He looked over at Sam who was still over by the mill. “Anything?”

Sam shook his head. “No,” he said in reply as he continued to eye the waters.

“Maybe he’s scared to come out and play. – Is that it, you’re scared?” He yelled out.

A small ripple started out towards the center of the pond; the rings of it barely made it to the edge at Dean’s feet.

“Dean…”

“Yeah, Sam, I see it.” Dean pulled his Colt from his waistband and checked to make sure the safety was off. “That’s it, you slimy bastard. Come out, come out, wherever you are.” He brought his gun up and aimed at the center point of the disturbance. From the corner of his eye, Dean could see Sam was doing the same.

The reeds off to his right rustled; there was no wind today, nothing that would set them in motion like that. He knew something was coming. “Sam, keep your eyes open.” He gestured with his chin to the dry, rasping blades of grass. Sam acknowledged him with a silent nod and moved closer.

Dean squatted down and picked up a large rock; he stood back up and threw it far out into the water. “Let’s go! I haven’t got all day!”

More movement in the water; it lapped up over Dean’s boots this time. He smirked. _This thing is so going down._ A splash halfway between him and Sam and about fifteen feet out had him snapping his attention over to it. And then another noise in the reeds had him looking back to his right. This thing was playing games. Dean moved over to the browning stalks of the cattails, hoping to catch this sucker as it came up.

And then all went still. The ripples stilled; the reeds stilled. It became too quiet. Dean looked at Sam after a few minutes of just nothing. His brother arched his brow and shrugged.

Dean couldn’t help but notice how small Sam seemed out here, Taurus held tightly in his hands. The gun would normally be engulfed in his brother’s huge hands, but now Sam needed two hands to hold the thing up and properly pull the trigger. It was a big gun for a girl. If it took a while to get Sam back to being _Sam,_ maybe they would look into getting something better suited for his smaller stature…

His thoughts were quickly forgotten when all of a sudden a great looping coil of dark scales with the large fin of a tail swept out of the water and wrapped around Sam’s leg.

“Sam!” _Oh, fuck no!_

“Dean!” Sam yelled as he was pulled from his feet and fell to the ground, losing his gun as he scrabbled at the dirt and grass for any kind of handhold. It happened so fast that he was barely able to yell his brother’s name. He dug his fingers into the soft ground, but all he ended up doing was leaving deep tracks in the dirt as the creature’s tight grip on him failed to let up. “Dean! Shoot it, goddammit!”

“I’m working on it, Sam.” Dean wanted to get to Sam before the creature had time to pull him into the pond. As he ran, he took aim at the tail just above where it was holding onto his brother (who was now partially in the water) and he fired, the sound of the gunshot piercing the quiet calm of the morning. He stopped in his tracks when Sam was suddenly lifted from the ground, dangling some six or seven feet in the air, his long hair trailing the water below.

“Shoot it again!” Sam screamed out as he hung helplessly by his ankle, swaying like a ripe fruit on a tree. He tried grabbing for his machete since he’d lost his gun; his stake was long gone, having slipped out of his jacket and fallen into the water below when he was swung upside down. He wasn’t having much luck getting to his blade, not with the way the creature was swinging him around and he was also trying to concentrate on not getting shot by his brother.

Dean was already firing again into the scaly flesh; two more shots drove deeply into it. Sam couldn’t help but cry out every time the creature was hit. Each time a bullet lodged in its flesh, it tightened its grip on Sam’s leg, threatening to shatter it.

Both brothers jumped when a deafening roar came up through the waters. The vodianoi suddenly surged out of the water, anger in his bright, blue eyes as he stared down in hatred at Dean; his long, white hair dripped over his shoulders and naked torso.

“YOU WILL DIE! YOU WILL BOTH DIE!” it bellowed out at Dean, causing a shiver to run down the hunter’s spine, and then it disappeared under the surface again, Sam still firmly in its grip.

“Dea-” Sam’s yell was cut off as he plummeted into the unknown depths, disappearing along with the water spirit.

Call him stupid, but Dean wasn’t losing Sam. He pulled his stake out and then shucked off his jacket, throwing it to the ground along with his Colt. He took a deep breath and then dove into the murky waters. He had to save Sam. Either they both lived or they both died. There was no door number three.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam barely got a breath in before he plummeted under the icy waters, the chill stunning him for a moment. Up above, the light of the morning broke through the surface, but it was getting further away with every second. Down below, where the creature was heading at a rapid pace, he could see nothing but pitch darkness.

While his mind was still clear enough, he worked again on pulling his machete from its sheath; he had to stop their downward descent before it was too late. The task wasn’t in any way easier than before, but he got it this time. Once he had the weapon in hand, he attempted to stab into the slick, muscled tail of the spirit which was still gripping his leg too tightly, but it was difficult with their swift movement through the water. When he finally felt some give under the sharp tip, he pushed with every bit of the strength he had in him. The vodianoi screeched in pain, its tail shaking him wildly like a ragdoll; the front end of the creature suddenly wheeled around on him and Sam could see its blazing, blue eyes shining at him through the hazy water.

_Oh, shit!_

“DIE!” it roared as it back-handed Sam and then swung at him to knock the blade out of the hunter’s hand. The vodianoi smiled at Sam as the machete fell to into the muddy depths below them. “YOU WILL DIE!”

Sam barely managed to keep his mouth clamped shut as the webbed hand connected high on his cheekbone, nearly knocking him senseless. Even before the strike, he had already felt himself drifting towards unconsciousness; he couldn’t hold his breath much longer. Risking a glance up, he surmised they were about fifteen to twenty feet below the sparkling surface, too far from his much needed air...too far from Dean. _Dean…_ God, he would never see his brother again.

The young hunter’s thoughts started to grow foggy. As he fought to hold onto his breath, Sam made one final attempt at getting the creature to release his leg, but the effort was fruitless. Even if he did escape, how was he going to make it to the surface in time?

In the end, he ultimately succumbed to the need to breathe. A rush of cold water filled his lungs as Sam’s body instinctively tried to suck in air; the water was ice-cold, but it burned painfully as it filled his chest. Panic was the second to last thing his mind knew. The last was a final word falling from the evil creature’s mouth. “DIE!”

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Dean swam, kicking his legs and pushing himself further down into the frigid depths of the pond. Up ahead, he saw a blue circle of light. The only thing down here that it could be was the vodianoi. _Thank god it didn’t go far,_ he thought as he made his way toward the creature, hoping he still had enough time.

As he got closer, he could see Sam’s shape mere feet in front of the water spirit’s glowing eyes. His brother was struggling, but he wasn’t making any headway. Dean couldn’t really see what was going on, but he _did_ see when the vodianoi struck out at his brother.

“DIE! YOU WILL DIE!” the creature’s words reverberated through the water.

 _No one but you is gonna die, you son of a bitch_ , Dean thought as he continued to swim towards the thing.

He had one chance at this. While the vodianoi’s attention was being held by Sam’s struggles, Dean swam up behind it. With a great heave, he rammed the silver stake through its back and into the creature’s heart. It screamed so loudly that Dean had to clamp his hands over his ears.

The water around the creature started to boil, not hotly thankfully, but the churning waters surrounding them reminded Dean all too well of those underwater volcano documentaries Sam had forced him to watch a time or two. Bubbles were forming and rising up to the surface and pressure was building up around them. Something was about to happen…something not good.

The vodianoi’s grip on Sam let go and Dean saw his brother now free-floating, his dark hair tangled about his face, arms and legs limp. _Sammy!_ Dean’s lungs were burning as he kicked over to his unconscious brother and grabbed him around the waist. He just started to push back up to the surface when a deep rumble came from behind. The hunter glanced over his shoulder and saw a bright energy begin to pour out of the creature’s body. “Shit!” he accidentally said out loud, gulping in a mouthful of foul-tasting water. Dean turned and kicked his legs as hard as he could.

It wasn’t quite enough as the vodianoi’s body burst into a bright, white light, causing Dean to close his eyes as he made his way up to the surface. The force of the blast wave hit him full on and then he knew nothing but darkness.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

He was sore when he came to and a groan escaped from his lips. Dean pushed up on his hands and coughed out what felt like a gallon of pond water from his lungs. This, right here, is why he hated water hunts.

As his mind cleared, he realized Sam wasn’t with him. _Fuck_. “Sam!” Dean stood up on shaky legs, swaying a bit as he looked around for Sam. He started walking, eying every direction for the petite form of his brother. And then he saw a pale, unmoving hand outstretched near the reeds.

“Sammy!” He ran over and grabbed his brother, pulling him further onto the shore; he dropped quickly to his knees. “Oh, god, Sam,” he said as he swept the tangle of wet hair from Sam’s face. The younger Winchester wasn’t breathing; his skin was ashen; his whole body was dead weight and limp. Dean had no idea how long he’d been out. If it had been more than a few minutes…

He checked Sam’s pulse at his neck. It was so faint, he barely felt it beating under his cold and trembling fingers. “C’mon, Sammy.” Dean leaned down and began mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. “Breathe, Sam.” Nothing. He forced another breath of air into Sam’s delicate lungs. “You can’t die on me now. Who’s gonna help me outta my deal, huh?” Another breath. A span of panicked moments passed. Another breath.

Tears were forming in Dean’s eyes, pricking at his lashes and blurring his vision as the seconds turned into minutes. He leaned down and pressed his mouth to Sam’s and tried again. Nothing. “You’re not gonna die on me, little brother…” Another breath.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Sam woke up coughing. He curled in on himself and spit up the brackish water that had tried to lay claim to his lungs and had almost succeeded in doing so. He heaved until it felt like there was no more, and then coughed again, only to have more water pour up from his lungs.

“Dean,” he rasped out through his raw throat as he panted for air; his body was shaking uncontrollably from the exertion of dispelling half the pond from his lungs.

“Jesus, Sammy.” Dean sounded nearly broken, Sam noticed. _How close had things come?_ He could hardly remember what had happened, except that the vodianoi had gotten a hold of him and dragged him under the water. His brother was sitting on his knees beside him and the man swept unsteady hands up over his face and through his wet hair and finally said, “You scared the living shit outta me.”

He slowly sat up – or tried to at least – and then he found himself in a desperate hug. Sam could feel the slight tremble coursing through his brother’s body; he wasn’t sure which of them was worse at the moment, him or Dean. But Dean’s hands were on him and that’s all that mattered right now. It seemed that they both needed the intimate contact for the moment; it reminded them that they were both still there and alive.

“Is it-?” Sam began to ask as he took in another shuddering breath; the cool air was a balm to his traumatized lungs.

“Yeah, it’s dead.”

As Sam allowed himself to relax in Dean’s arms, he felt his body begin to shake from both shock and cold; his teeth started to chatter. “Getting so cold, Dean.” The icy water had worked its way deep into his bones and he couldn’t stop the shivering now that it had started.

Dean pulled away from him then. “Here.” A second later, Sam felt his sodden jacket being pulled off. It was replaced by the heavy, warm material of Dean’s dark blue utility jacket; Sam could smell his brother on it as he nestled into its folds and felt himself drifting.

The older hunter said something more about getting back to the motel, but Sam wasn’t really with it enough by that time to get the meaning of the words; he just went with the flow, knowing he could trust his brother to keep him safe. And then he felt Dean’s strong arms wrap around him as he was picked up and carried to the car. The groan of the Impala’s door opening and closing was the last thing he heard as he slipped back into unconsciousness.

When he woke up a few minutes later, Sam found himself wrapped tightly in a wool blanket surrounded by the familiar scents and noises of the Impala. He felt heat blasting on him from the vents in both the dash and at his feet; the warmth felt good after the bitter bite of the icy waters. “Wha’ happen’d?”

“Just rest, Sammy. We can talk later.” Dean sounded a lot calmer than before; it reassured Sam that things were going to be okay. He let his eyes close again, allowing himself to relax.

His brother continued to talk, but Sam didn’t hear any more as he fell into a restless sleep.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Dean drove quickly. The wheels bit into the asphalt hard as he swung out from the dirt road leading from the mill. He had to get Sam warmed up before the kid’s body decided to go into shock. He had already noticed some of the very early signs of it and gave another glance over to his brother.

Quiet words, almost too soft for Dean to hear over the rumble of the Impala’s engine, fell from Sam’s blue tinged lips. He wanted to know what had happened. “Just rest, Sammy. We can talk later. Another couple minutes and we’ll get you a warm shower, get you all better.” He tried to keep his voice steady, not wanting Sam to sense his on-going worry.

His thoughts wandered as he took the turn onto the main road; the motel was still another ten minutes away. They’d had some close calls in the past where one or the other of them had come a little too near Death’s doorstep (not counting Sam’s stint in Cold Oak). Every single time it happened, Dean would sit back afterward and wonder if hunting was really worth it.

With Azazel dead, they were both really meandering down one road when they could just jump ship and head off in a different direction, a _normal_ direction; it’s what Sam had always wanted. But now Dean was stuck in his deal. He remembered exactly what the demon had said, too. “If you try and welch or weasel your way out, then the deal is off. Sam drops dead.”

Dean sighed. He knew Sam wouldn’t give up looking for a way out, a loophole, anything until that last second when the hellhounds were scratching and howling at the door…and even then, once Dean was on his one-way trip to Hell, he knew his brother would keep going; he would try to find a way to bring him back. There would be no talking Sam out of it.

Sam was strong. He would survive, with or without Dean. It was the only real hope Dean had.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Sam was in and out of consciousness for the rest of the day. He vaguely recalled Dean stripping him out of his clothes and putting him into a hot shower when they had gotten back to the room. His brother had woken him up with a gentle shake of the shoulder at timed intervals to force some warm tea into him and to feed him some pain killers at one point.

Finally, Sam had to climb out of bed, weary as he was, to use the bathroom. Besides having to pee, he had another matter that Dean wasn’t able to take care of. He hoped his ‘time of the month’ was short like Jess’ had been. He’d heard stories about girls who lasted up to a whole week; that would seriously annoy the crap out of him. Sam had an entirely new respect for girls now.

When he came out of the bathroom, Dean was watching him from where he was sitting on the less-than-adequate and, not to mention, sagging couch the motel owners had so kindly provided their room with. Their father’s journal was open in his lap and he had a pen in his hand. Dean must have been adding to the book.

“How you feeling?” his brother asked as he eyed the soft purplish bloom of a bruise high up on Sam’s cheek from where the vodianoi’s hand had struck him.

Sam had seen the bruise in the mirror and self-consciously raised his fingers to his cheek when he saw Dean looking at it. It really wasn’t as bad as it looked. He had gotten lucky. “Headache, sore. You know, the usual stuff after I get my ass kicked on a hunt.” Sam tried to smile as he dropped back down onto the bed and pushed his legs under the blankets, the sequined material reflecting a rainbow of color up onto his pale face. He still felt drained, almost sick, and wanted to sleep it off for a while longer.

“That good, huh?” Dean allowed himself to smile back at his brother. “You hungry? Got some pizza in the fridge if you want it.” He closed the journal and made to get up to retrieve the leftover food, but sat back down when Sam responded.

“Nah, I think I just wanna sleep. Maybe breakfast though.” He shifted and turned onto his stomach, trying to get comfortable on the lumpy mattress. The change in position had him coughing as something fluid shifted in his lungs. After nearly drowning, Sam was sure there was still some water in there. His throat was still sore, too. He was sure tomorrow would be worse. The day after the hunt always seemed to hurt more.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Sam’s coughing broke the calm silence of the morning and Dean sat up in bed, looking over to his brother. “Sammy, y’okay?”

“Not really,” came a weak reply from the other bed.

Dean was up and over by Sam’s side in a heartbeat. He sat down on the bed beside his brother and cleared Sam’s hair out of his face. As he did, he noticed the pallid hue to Sam’s features and he felt a warmth under his fingers. Dean pressed the back of his fingers to Sam’s forehead. “Shit. You’re running a fever. And no small one either.”

Dean got up and began to peel Sam’s blankets off of him; he could feel the heat radiating from his small frame as he did so. “How long have you been like this?”

“Don’ know.” Sam rolled onto his side and groaned; his whole body ached. “Jus’ lemme sleep.” He coughed again.

“Yeah, okay. After another glass of water and some medicine.” Dean got up and went to his duffel. He rummaged through it until he found what he was looking for. Popping the cap off the unlabeled, plastic bottle, he shook three white tablets out into his hand. Then he remembered Sam was a little too small to handle three these days; he dumped one back into the container and got up to refill Sam’s glass in the bathroom.

When Dean came back into the room, Sam was already dozing. He gently shook him awake. “Hey, c’mon. Take these and then you can sleep.”

Sam groaned as Dean helped him up, but he took what his brother gave him and drank the water down. “Stay with me?” he asked almost pleadingly when he was done.

Dean hesitated. Sam was in just a thin t-shirt and – _fuck –_ lacey underwear; he hadn’t been paying attention earlier when he’d yanked the covers off his brother to cool him down. _When the hell had Sam put those on?_ And they hadn’t been this close since _that_ night. _C’mon, Dean. Get over yourself._

“Yeah, I guess I can do that. But you’re gonna have to scoot your sorry ass over. And you better not go getting me sick.” He smirked.

“Yeah, no kissin’. I gotcha,” Sam slurred, half-asleep, as he moved over, giving Dean room to climb into the bed beside him.

“Yeah, no kissin’,” Dean mumbled as he settled in next to his hot and nearly naked – but sick – female brother. And Dean was in nothing but his boxer briefs.

Dean remained sitting up against the padded headboard. He figured if he didn’t let himself get too comfy, he wouldn’t feel the urge to get cozy. It worked…for a while. Unfortunately, certain elements in this situation were out of his control, like when a sleeping Sam rolled over and snuggled into his lap. His brother looked so contented and peaceful that he didn’t have the heart to push him away.

Instead, he smoothed a hand over Sam’s brow and let it rest in his silky hair. The fingers of his other hand trailed down Sam’s side, stopping at the indent of his waist where he met warm skin. Dean’s heart rate picked up at the forbidden touch, but it didn’t stop him from sliding his fingers under the shirt where he let them ghost over the soft, tanned skin. _It’s just to keep him calm,_ Dean said to himself. _Nothing more than that. Nope._

Sam seemed to settle deeper into Dean’s lap under the gentle caresses and the older Winchester smiled. After all the shit that had happened between them over the last couple of years, he was glad his brother was still able to trust him so much, even in his sleep.

His brother’s latest position had caused something to stir in Dean and he quickly realized this wasn’t going to work out so well on his end. Sam’s warm breath was ghosting right over his damn cock, bringing it to life. - Dean would admit it, he was a horny bastard; it didn’t take much to get him going. - He let out a deep sigh of frustration. All he knew was that, the first chance he got, he was calling Bobby to see if he’d found anything to get them out of this.

Dean closed his eyes and dropped his head back against the headboard. He needed to get laid in the worst way.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

For three days Sam was down with a fever. His little swim in the millpond with the vodianoi had clearly disagreed with him.

On the fourth day, he managed to get up, feeling fairly healthy again. He noticed right away that Dean was looking pretty crappy though. “You sick?” he asked as he hauled himself out of bed to scrounge for some clean clothes and then head off for the shower. He felt pretty disgusting after not having showered in four days. Dean had attempted to give him something of a sponge bath yesterday, but Sam shoved him away not being able to handle his brother’s eyes on him, nor his hands for that matter (even if there was a washcloth keeping the man from actually touching him).

“Nope. Just tired from taking care of your ass, but I’m good,” Dean teased.

Dean was sitting at the breakfast table, laptop open in front of him, and sipping coffee from a Styrofoam cup. He was tired as he admitted, but he was also very sexually frustrated because he wouldn’t let himself leave Sam for any extended period of time to relieve himself in the proper fashion – handjobs could only go so far – and his little brother took a liking to sleeping in his damn lap. (But Dean knew it was mostly his own fault. He kept going back night after night whether Sam asked him to or not.)

He had called Bobby two days ago while his brother was sleeping and the man hadn’t found anything to fix Sam yet. Dean told him to get moving on it and Bobby’s reply to that was an irritated, “Cool it, boy, or I’ll use the damn spell on you. The answers you’re lookin’ for don’t just grow on trees, you know.”

Sam found what he needed in his duffel and turned to face Dean. He frowned when his brother looked a little out of sorts and looked to where his brother’s gaze fell. _Shit._ Dangling from his hand was his red bra, the one he’d worn _that_ night. He balled it up and tucked it into the shirt he held in his other hand.

“I think we’re due for some laundry. I’m running low on my stuff and I’m not going back to the store to buy more clothes.”

Dean closed the laptop and tried to shake the rekindled memories of that night out of his head. “Yeah. I’ll, um, just get my stuff together while you’re in the shower. We can grab some food while we’re out, too…that’s if you wanna eat.” Sam’s stomach grumbled loudly at the mention of food and Dean chuckled. “I guess that answers that then.”

As he got up to get his dirty clothes together, Dean noticed something on the floor by the bathroom door. When he went over to pick it up, he saw it was a pair of Sam’s panties. He lifted an eyebrow at the small piece of silky material. He didn’t remember picking out a thong for his brother during their shopping trip. Sam must have grabbed them up on his own. “Sammy, you kinky bastard.” He grinned as he quietly opened the bathroom door and tossed them onto the pile of Sam’s clean clothes. And he wouldn’t deny the thought of Sam in those turned him on immensely.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

They’d spent most of the late morning and early afternoon at the laundromat. (It always amazed Sam at how long that particular chore took.) Afterwards, Dean had insisted on giving the Impala a good and thorough washing and pulled into a self-service car wash. It was a mild day temperature-wise and the car had a fine layer of dust and salt on it that was driving the older man crazy. Sam had stood outside the wash booth huddled in his coat, watching his brother’s movements under the pretense of innocently keeping Dean company.

No matter what season it was, Sam knew his brother would always strip out of his jacket and overshirt while washing his ‘Baby’. Sam certainly wasn’t going to pass up on an opportunity to see a wet (and sudsy) Dean in just a t-shirt and tight jeans bending over to wash the tires and rims. And his brother hadn’t let him down.

More than once he caught glimpses of bare skin peeking out from below his brother’s shirt as he stretched out to reach the top of the roof or the middle of the hood. And that tight ass…

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

May was coming up fast and Sam was starting to panic more and more as the clock ticked. The last eight months or so had gone by in a heartbeat; they were two thirds of the way there…and yet he’d found nothing to save Dean.

He clicked through the screens on the computer. Demons. Crossroads demons. Demonic deals. Over and over he read everything he could. English. Latin. Unknown and archaic languages. He was looking for a loophole to get Dean out of his deal. And he didn’t give a shit that Dean had told him to stop. There _had_ to be a way out of it if he looked hard enough, long enough.

It was late into the evening, edging on night when Sam looked up from the laptop, eying Dean as his brother came out of the bathroom. Sam hadn’t expected him to come out fully clothed. His eyebrows knitted together in question. “Going somewhere?”

“Yeah,” Dean answered without an explanation. He picked up his phone from the nightstand between the two beds and checked it before pocketing it.

“Want some company?” Sam offered. He’d been motel-bound too long; it would be nice to get out for something other than washing clothes and eating.

“Nah, just gonna grab a few drinks-,” Dean pulled on his overshirt and retrieved his Colt as he was talking, “-maybe try to get us some more cash. We’re runnin’ a little low.”

 _And find someone to screw,_ Sam thought jealously. He stared at the computer screen; a grinning portrayal of a winged demon stared back at him. He wished Dean would give them another chance, but he only nodded and quietly said, “Okay. What time you think you’ll be back?”

“It all depends,” was all that came back in reply. Sam knew what Dean really meant was, it all depended on whether or not he picked up a girl for the night. What struck Sam as odd was that Dean didn’t have any bounce in his step as he went to put on his boots and jacket like he normally did when he was expecting to get laid. It was almost as if he wasn’t looking forward to it.

A couple minutes later, Dean stepped silently out the door leaving Sam all alone.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Sam paced the room. Dean had only been gone ten minutes. If he was going to pick someone up, it would be later, well after he’d had time to hustle a game of pool or a hand of poker, or even a round of darts, whatever happened to be the prize game of the night.

As the minutes stretched out, Sam felt his jealousy growing. Then a thought occurred to him. Maybe Dean had the right idea. Sam was a grown man (correction, woman). He hadn’t had sex in roughly a month and there was no reason he shouldn’t be able to get some action on his own. It might just help him get over this _thing_ with Dean, at least in the short term. His period had picked a good day to end; he didn’t need that getting in the way of things tonight.

He went to his bag and sifted through it until he found something he thought would suit his needs for the night. There was something else he needed though. He put his shoes on and grabbed his coat and wallet. He had to run across the street to the store.

Less than twenty minutes later, Sam was in front of the bathroom mirror. He had his tightest jeans on along with a low-cut red top, the lace of his bra just peeking out of the deep v-neck. On the counter in front of him was an assortment of make-up. It had been years since he’d touched this stuff, but he had a fairly good idea on how to apply it. It was just one of those crazy and fun things he and Jess had done while they were together; she had taught him the basics of how to put make-up on her. He never knew he’d actually need those tips to apply it on himself someday.

“Well, here goes nothing.” He picked up the first compact and opened it.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

The bar was about a half mile’s walk down the street from the motel. He had seen the Impala parked out front when he reached it and swallowed, not sure how Dean was going to react if and when he saw him. If he played his cards right, Sam could manage to stay out of Dean’s sight until he found what he came here for. He slipped his hand into his pocket, checking to make sure that the foil wrapped condom was still safety buried in it. It was. Sam took a nervous breath as he entered the building.

The first thing he did was locate Dean’s whereabouts. The man was hanging out in the billiard room, not playing yet, just watching as he slowly sipped a beer. He was learning his potential competition’s strengths and weaknesses. That was good because it meant Sam had some time.

It took a lot of effort to pull his eyes away from his brother’s sinful lips wrapped around the end of the bottle. It was almost too late when he did because Dean happened to glance in his direction as he brought the drink down, licking a stray bead of alcohol from his lips. Sam slipped out of sight just in the nick of time. _Great, Sam. Fuck it up within the first thirty seconds,_ he berated himself.

He could feel eyes on him as he walked through the room. There was a hunger there that he never felt when the girls had looked at him in the past. And Dean was right; it felt dangerous, like a room full of starving wolves. Sam would have to be careful. He found a table in a dark corner and took his jacket off. It fell heavily on the seat next to him, his Taurus hidden in its interior pocket.

The waitress came along and Sam was thankful he looked over twenty-one because he had no I.D.; it wasn’t something either him or Dean had given much consideration to considering this whole thing was temporary. He ordered a beer and a shot of tequila, just enough to loosen him up, but not enough to put him over the edge.

A few minutes later, his drinks were delivered. “Here you go, hun,” the red-headed, twenty-something waitress said with a friendly smile as she snapped her gum. “Just give a wave if you need anything else.”

“Thanks,” Sam replied with a smile in kind before letting his eyes roam over the crowd. He’d lost track of what day of the week it was, but it looked like the weekend because there was a big crowd. That meant lots of potential.

What Sam thought was interesting was that he wasn’t attracted to the women. He thought he would be seeing that he was really a man inside this body, but he found himself checking out the hard lines of the men. It was odd, because he’d never been attracted to men before, just Dean. _Must be the female hormone thing again_ , he mused.

As he sat there, he saw his brother walk up to the bar and order a drink. While the man waited for the bartender to fill his order, he turned and leaned back against the darkly varnished counter, one foot kicked up on the wall behind him. He was reading the people in the crowd, possibly looking for his potential hook-up for the night as well. Sam watched him, wishing Dean was what he could take home tonight, but he knew it would never happen. When his brother’s gaze turned towards Sam’s direction for the second time that night – _What, was the man’s biological GPS programmed to locate him?_ – Sam slid down in his seat making sure Dean wouldn’t see him.

A minute or two passed and the bartender returned with Dean’s order. He spoke to the guy for a brief moment and was handed another beer from the ice box behind the counter. He handed the man some money and headed back over to the pool tables.

Sam drank his shot and let it settle in for a little while. He realized after a few minutes that he wasn’t going to find anyone while sitting in a dark and dreary corner being the epitome of unsocial, so he picked up his beer and his jacket and found a seat at the bar. He would just have to keep an eye out for his brother, but hopefully he’d be long gone before the man came back for a refill.

It didn’t take long to reel someone in. Sam didn’t even notice the man come up from behind him. “This seat taken?” Wonderful pick-up line, too.

Sam looked over and surprisingly the first catch of the night wasn’t bad looking. “Um, no,” he stuttered, never having done this before, at least not from this angle.

“Well, that’s good. Mind if I sit then?” The man was the exact opposite of Dean in coloring…dark, wavy hair, almost black even, deep brown eyes, and olive colored skin. The only similarity between the two men was their height and build. Sam could clearly see the definition of muscle under the tight black shirt the man wore.

“Help yourself,” Sam smiled invitingly, knowing his dimples would help him along.

“Name’s Mike.” The guy stuck his hand out and Sam took it.

“Sam…short for Samantha.” Sam wanted to laugh. Never in a million years did he think he’d be referring to himself as Samantha.

“Nice to meet you, Sam.” Mike wasn’t shy about letting his eyes rake over Sam’s body, stopping for a moment to take in Sam’s cleavage which was well-displayed. “Anyone ever tell you how gorgeous you are?” Then the man looked down at the floor, shaking his head, and looked up at Sam after a breath. “Sorry, that sounded bad, but really, you are beautiful.” He smiled at Sam then.

Sam felt a blush rise up in his cheeks. It felt strange to be hit on like this, but he decided he liked it. “Thank you, I guess.” Sam glanced over toward the billiard room and then back to Mike. “Hey, I have a table,” he gestured toward the back of the room with a tilt of his head. “You mind if we go sit down? It’s a little too busy over here for me.”

“Sure.” Mike hopped off the barstool and took Sam’s hand to help him step down from his.

A shiver shot up Sam’s spine when he felt Mike’s large hand at the small of his back and he grinned. _Yeah,_ he thought, _this should help me get over my Dean problem._

They made quiet conversation for a while. Sam learned that Mike was twenty-seven and was working on his PhD in some biomedical science field. He was the second child of three and he was here visiting his grandparents. The hospital he was interning at was located in Indiana. It was a good thing, because that meant he wasn’t looking for any long-term relationship, just a one-nighter like Sam.

Sam was honest with the guy about his age and the fact that he had an older brother. He may have elaborated on his time at Stanford and told Mike he was taking a year off to travel before going back to law school. A big part of Sam wished it were true.

They ordered a basket of fries and fed them to each other at Mike’s humorous insistence. Their hands started to roam a little more with the passing time and a couple more drinks. Before Sam knew it, Mike’s lips were attached to his and he opened his mouth to let the man in without any hesitation. It wasn’t like kissing Dean at all, not so full of passion and need, but it wasn’t the worst kiss either. (Sam also didn’t let himself think about the fact that he’d never allowed a man to kiss him before…except for Dean anyway.) He jumped when he felt Mike’s warm hand slide up under his shirt and cup his left breast. Sam groaned with the want building up in him. He needed to get out of here and get laid.

When they pulled back for air, Sam looked up at the dark-haired man. Mike’s lips were kiss-swollen and his tongue darted out to lick Sam’s taste from them. There was a flush to his cheeks that the man couldn’t hide and Sam was sure he mirrored the image.

Mike reached out and took his hand, laying it over the obvious bulge in his pants. “You feel that? That’s what you’re doing to me, Sam. Wanna get out of here? My hotel’s not too far away.” He glanced down to where he held Sam’s hand and then back up. “But don’t feel pressured. I don’t want you to think I’m that kind of guy. We just both seem to be looking for the same thing tonight.”

Sam let his fingers curl around the man’s thick arousal through the denim of his jeans. His eyes darkened just thinking of _that_ sinking into him; he could already feel himself getting wet. Mike’s eyes twinkled with lust under the soft glow of the lamp hanging above their table and Sam knew he was ready to leave. He leaned up and kissed him again. “Let’s get out of here.”

Mike slid out from the booth and helped Sam up. He pulled his wallet out and left a few bills on the table to cover their food and drinks. Then he took Sam by the elbow and began to lead him to the exit.

Neither of them noticed the burning green eyes that had locked onto them as they crossed the room and walked out the door.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam let himself be led out to a shiny, black Audi parked around the side of the building; he tried his damnedest to not look at the Impala as they walked by it, swallowing down the bit of guilt that had crept up upon seeing the car. The Chevy just shouted ‘Dean’ out a little too loudly. Tonight was all about forgetting Dean.

Mike unlocked the car with his remote and reached around Sam to open the passenger side door for him. Sam tucked himself neatly into the leather interior, thankful that he wasn’t his usual 6’4” stature (it would have been a tight squeeze then) and let the man close the door behind him. He inhaled, breathing in the strong and unfamiliar smells of the car. As he sat there, he noticed he wasn’t really nervous about what he was about to do. Mike seemed like an honest-to-goodness, decent guy, a seeming rarity these days. For his first time doing this, Sam felt like giving himself a pat on the back.

He glanced over to the driver’s side expecting Mike to get in at any moment, but a full minute had gone by and he didn’t show up. Now that he was paying attention, Sam heard voices outside the car. He was startled when his door opened back up and his brother’s fiery, emerald eyes stared down at him; Dean’s jaw was set tightly, and there was that tell-tale twitch that Sam knew all too well as a sign that his brother was pissed.

“Out,” was all Dean said.

Sam bit down on his lip. _Really?_ “No, Dean.” He narrowed his hazel eyes at the man in defiance. “I’m a consenting adult and you’re not gonna start telling me who I can and can’t sleep with.”

Dean glared at Sam, eyes darkening; it was a look that would make most men shrivel up where they stood. He stepped back, crossing his arms, and then looked over to where Sam assumed Mike was still standing. “Mike…”

The other man came around the side of the car and looked apologetically at Sam. “I’m sorry, Sam, but this isn’t going to work. You’re going to have to get out of the car.”

Sam looked from Mike to Dean; his brother was playing dirty. He grabbed his jacket and got out of the car, squaring his shoulders. “How could you?” Sam jabbed his brother in the center of the chest with his index finger. “You have no goddamn right! What did you tell him?”

Dean didn’t rise to Sam’s heated anger, but the quiet tone of his voice when he spoke promised worse than if he had done so. “We’ll talk when we get back to the room.” Then he looked at Mike. “Sorry to have ruined your party.”

“Hey, no problem. I just hope you two can work everything out.” The man gave a brief smile to Sam and then closed the passenger door. A second later, he was in the car and driving away.

Sam watched the Audi take a corner and disappear from sight and then rounded back on Dean. “I should shoot you,” he growled. “You can go to the bar to pick someone up for a quick fuck, but I can’t? What the hell, Dean? Seriously? You never cared _before_. When I was a guy, you literally tried to push me out the door to do this!”

“Let’s go, Sam.” Dean wasn’t arguing about this, not out in a public parking lot at nearly eleven o’clock at night anyway; it would garner too much attention. He gave Sam a slight shove in the direction of the Impala when he still hadn’t moved.

“Fuck off!” Sam twisted away from his brother’s touch. “I can get there on my own.” He couldn’t believe this was happening; he felt like he was twelve. When he got to the car, he wrenched the door open and got in, slamming it behind him.

Dean got in a moment later. “You keep slamming that door like that-”

“And what, Dean?” Sam turned to Dean, nostrils flaring in his fury. “You gonna put me over your knee and spank me next? Hey, maybe you can ground me while you’re at it.” Sam was livid; his heart was pounding in his chest and he just wanted to scream, lash out at Dean.

“You know what, you keep acting like that, I just might.”

The older man pushed the key into the ignition and turned it, waking up the Impala with a low rumble. He put the car in drive, looked over his shoulder to check for traffic, and then pulled out onto the road.

All too quickly they were back at the motel.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Things for Dean slid into place fairly quickly when he happened to glance across the bar and saw his brother walking out on another guy’s arm. An unexpected jealousy had burned through him; it was laced with something else he couldn’t quite define in that split second. Maybe it was shock? Or was it disbelief that Sam would do something like that right now? His brother didn't make a regular habit of picking up random chicks at the bar. Usually the girls he fucked – no, wait, _made love to_ – he made some sort of connection with first, like that Sarah girl back in New York (even though Sam never ended up sleeping with her), and then there was Madison…

People had instinctively cleared a path for Dean when he had made his way from the billiard room to the door to catch up with the couple. When he had gotten outside, somehow he had managed to force himself to cool off enough to approach Sam’s soon-to-be one-night stand without bashing his face in. After the fact, he was glad he hadn’t. Mike had genuinely seemed like a good guy; Dean could at least give Sam credit for not leaving with some piece of crap.

He had thought he could just ignore the feelings that had suddenly surfaced those first few days after Sam became a girl, bury them under whatever other dirty laundry he had rolling around in some distant corner of his mind, but obviously after days of trying, that hadn’t worked out so well. Attempting to avoid the pull towards Sam over the last few weeks was like trying to run from his own shadow; it wasn’t going to happen, no way, no how. He was attached to it for better or worse.

The elder Winchester was still fairly pissed off by the time he got into the car and started it up, especially with his brother’s bitchy attitude. _Didn’t Sam remember how dangerous it was for a woman to be alone in a bar like that? What if Mike hadn’t been a good guy?_ But the more he thought about this whole thing, the more furious he became at himself and less so towards Sam.

Dean knew their lives were fucked up, but this? This whole thing was fucking crazy…insane, actually. If he wasn’t already going to Hell, he’d be standing in line waiting to buy a first-class ticket all on his own.

He had tried to fight this battle, but he couldn’t anymore and found himself slowly surrendering to it a little more each day. Dean was sick of fighting if truth be told. He loved Sam…in ways he shouldn’t, but, god help him, he did. Girl Sam, boy Sam? Who gave a shit? It didn’t make a difference. It was _Sam._

Now his biggest fear was what was Sam going to think about this if he told him? Sure, he knew his brother was a little off-kilter since becoming female; his emotions were all over the damn place. And sure, they had kissed and done a little more that one night. But Dean had attributed all of Sam’s actions and feelings to the curse. Dean was a man, readily available, and Sam’s newfound hormones had painted a big, red bull’s eye on his back. The _real_ Sam couldn’t possibly want what they had done together. There was no way he was as messed up as Dean apparently was now that he finally admitted his feelings to himself. His uncertainty about Sam kept Dean quiet on the short drive back to the motel.

Sam was out of the car before Dean even turned the engine off. He didn’t bother to call out to his brother as Sam stalked off and disappeared into their room. Instead, he only sat there for a few minutes listening to the engine tick as it cooled down. _Now what the hell was he going to do?_

When Dean got inside, he tossed his coat over one of the chairs at the table and scrubbed his hands over his face. Part of him, the normal ‘big-brothers-don’t-fuck-their-little-brothers’ part, felt like he’d just seriously screwed up, that he should have just let Sam go off and do whatever it was he wanted to do with that guy – Hell, that’s what he himself had been out there doing tonight, looking for a piece of ass; it was only fair – But his feelings had gotten in the way, his sense of possession for something he loved and wanted (something he’d refused to acknowledge up until the events of tonight), had set things in motion. That particular part of him, the jealous and possessive part, just wanted to fuck Sam and claim him as his own. And that part was currently winning this screwed up game of tug-o-war.

Dean growled in frustration as he kicked his boots off. He briefly glanced over at the bathroom door; once again he’d pissed Sam off by acting and not thinking. Dean thought it was funny that he could tackle just about any supernatural creature out there, but when it came to his little brother, he always managed to fuck shit up. He never could figure that one out.

Knowing Sam would more than likely stay in hiding for a while – they both had some pent up fire in them that needed time to burn out – Dean found his duffel and dug through it until he reached the bottom and pulled out a bottle of whiskey; it was a little less than half full, just enough in it to get him where he needed to be. His brain hurt from thinking about everything that was going on between him and Sam; he needed a little something more than the few beers and one shot he’d had back at the bar to get through the rest of the night.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Sam furiously washed the make-up from his face all the while cursing Dean for his behavior tonight. His brother had no right to do what he’d done. Really, all Sam was trying to do was find some relief from having to look at Dean every damn minute of every damn day knowing he couldn’t have what he wanted.

He stared at himself in the mirror after he was done; his face was red from scrubbing too hard. Sam knew Dean was trying to protect him, but something wasn’t right about this whole thing. There were certain boundaries neither of them crossed, and Dean had stepped over the line tonight. Why would Dean do what he’d done? The man had clearly expressed that there could be nothing between them because they were brothers.

Sam shook his head and yanked the vinyl shower curtain back. He turned on the water, made it as hot as he could, and began to strip, resigned to the fact that he would never figure Dean out. The man would always be his overprotective big brother and would always have his reasons for doing some of the fucked up shit he did…like what he did tonight.

The dreaded thought that Dean’s time was winding down niggled at his thoughts as well. He didn’t want to waste what was left of that meager time fighting with his brother if that’s truly all that Dean had left; the man didn’t seem too keen on helping to find a way out of his deal either which made matters all that much more difficult.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Sam came out of the bathroom a while later with a towel wrapped around himself, having forgotten to grab any clean clothes in his haste to get away from his brother earlier.

Dean was lying on his bed, legs outstretched in front of him, crossed at the ankle, with an empty whiskey bottle in his hand. His brother had peeled off his outer layers of clothing and was in his t-shirt and boxer briefs and his eyes were closed, but Sam could tell by the rhythm of his breathing that he wasn’t asleep. He chose to ignore the man for now, not knowing how full the liquor bottle in his hand had been when Dean had started. He wasn’t up for a fight with his drunken brother; those arguments never ended well.

Sam went over to his bed and picked his bag up from the floor beside it. As he was putting it down on the bed, Dean called over to him.

“Sammy?”

“Not a good time, Dean.” He unzipped his bag without bothering to look up.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Dean opened his eyes and shifted so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Sam was facing away from him and he let his eyes drift over the curvy figure hidden just beneath the threadbare towel. His gaze stopped where the towel did, just under Sam’s ass. _If his brother bent over just a little…_ Wetting his lips at the sight, he pushed the conversation. “No, Sam, I think we need to talk.” He continued to watch his brother as he sifted through his clothes, all the while ignoring him. Dean stood up and silently moved across the couple of feet of space between his bed and Sam. _If his brother wasn’t going to give him the time of day (or night), he’d take matters into his own hands._ Dean was going to deal with this tonight.

“What’s there to talk about?” Sam asked while continuing to weed through his clothes, completely unaware that Dean had stepped up behind him. “I get it. I am to remain your virginal sister until I’m _me_ again. Fine.” He finally pulled out a flannel shirt and tossed his bag back onto the floor. As he turned to go back into the bathroom to change, he stepped right into the tall and unyielding wall that was Dean.

“Shit, Dean. C’mon. I’m tired and I don’t feel like fighting anymore tonight,” he mumbled and made to step around his brother without looking up at him.

Dean blocked Sam’s retreat. Then he slowly, almost hesitantly, reached up and brushed the backs of his knuckles along the side of Sam’s cheek, causing his brother to freeze in place, flannel shirt falling to the floor forgotten. Dean continued to let them trail down over the sensitive skin of his brother’s neck, feeling Sam’s pulse racing under his fingers just from the touch alone. A visible shudder coursed through Sam’s body and Dean smiled. Sam was clearly being affected by this.

“Sammy…,” Dean whispered as he moved his hand so his fingers now wrapped around the nape of his brother’s neck, slipping up and tangling in his long hair. Sam attempted to turn out of his grip, but Dean tightened his hold and his other hand fell to the younger Winchester’s side, fingers squeezing over the jut of his hip bone.

Sam’s breath hitched and he could feel tears begin to well up in his eyes. “Dean, don’t. Please.” Sam couldn’t take this; it was too much and it _hurt_. Dean had shunned him enough for him to know this wasn’t what his brother wanted and he couldn’t handle the heartbreak of it again. “C’mon, you’ve had too much to drink. Go sleep it off. We can talk about this in the morning if that’s what you want.” He grabbed Dean’s arm and tried once more to pull out of his grip, but his brother wasn’t budging. Sam was trapped until Dean decided otherwise.

“I’m not drunk, Sam. Far from it as a matter of fact.” Dean stared down into Sam’s wide, hazel eyes, seeing the unshed tears, and worried at his bottom lip as he thought about how his brother was going to react to what he was about to do.

Sam’s right hand was still wrapped around the solid muscle of Dean’s forearm and his left was up between them now, pressed flat up against the man’s chest; the heat of Dean’s skin burned into his palm through the thin, cotton material of his t-shirt. He watched his brother’s teeth biting down on the flesh of his lip, quite expecting to see blood they dug in so far. When he realized where his eyes had fallen, he looked back up to Dean’s steady gaze.

“Look, I know you’re sorry about what happened tonight and I am, too. But I need you to let go of me. You don’t want this.” Sam attempted to push Dean away once more, but it had the exact opposite effect he was looking for. His brother closed the gap between them even further. “De-”

Dean leaned down and kissed Sam, taking full advantage of his brother’s parted lips to push his tongue inside his mouth. He could feel Sam sway under the unexpected assault of the kiss and slipped his arm around Sam’s lower back to help keep him on his feet.

Sam didn’t respond at first as his mind literally stopped working, but, _goddammit_ , Sam found himself kissing back when the lights came back on. He felt Dean’s fingers twisting in his hair and moaned into the kiss. He should be pissed at his brother right now, but this? This is what he wanted and he didn’t want to fight it, even if common sense screamed out that he should.

Dean had initiated this which meant something. _It had to…didn’t it?_ Then it clicked. This is why Dean had pulled the stunt he had tonight. His brother had finally given in. Dean had been jealous seeing Sam leaving with Mike. That had been the proverbial straw that had broken the camel’s back.

The older man pulled away briefly and smirked. “Dude, stop thinking so hard. You’re gonna ruin the moment.” Then his sinful mouth was on Sam again, sucking at his bottom lip, nipping gently at it. He pushed his tongue back into the heat of Sam’s mouth, seeking his brother out.

Sam’s hands slipped down from Dean’s arm and chest and he let them slide down until he could feel the hem of his brother’s shirt. He wanted to feel bare skin and he pushed under the material, letting his hands explore the expanse of Dean’s tight abs and muscled chest.

As he molded his body to Dean’s, he could feel his brother’s thick and heavy arousal pushing into his thigh and Sam gasped into the kiss as he let himself rub against it, giving his brother the needed friction.

 _Fuck._ Dean suddenly broke away, taking a step back, and looked at Sam with pinched brows. That big brother part of him was trying to kick in; guilt was starting to rear its ugly head. Dean was about to have sex with his little brother. _WRONG_. The word flashed in big, bold letters through his head like a blinking, neon sign.

“What?” _What was Dean thinking?_ Sam was going to kill the man if he started this up and was suddenly getting cold feet.

“Sam, shit.” Dean ran an open hand over the back of his neck. “It’s just… Are you okay with this? I know what I did tonight…you should be pissed. And, god, this isn’t-”

Sam smiled. “Now look who’s thinking too much,” he said cutting Dean off and moving into his space. Without any hesitation, Sam reached over and tugged Dean’s t-shirt up, causing the man to raise his arms so he could pull it up and over his head, and then he hooked his fingers behind the elastic waistband of his brother’s boxer briefs, pulling Dean in close to him. At the same time, he carefully pushed the dark material down, exposing the man’s hard length. Sam glanced down at his brother’s flushed and swollen shaft. There was no denying what Dean’s body wanted even if his mind was questioning it. He looked back up at his brother as he let his fingers wrap around Dean’s cock, giving a gentle squeeze and a quick up and down stroke with a twist of his wrist, causing the man’s eyes to flutter as he let out a quiet groan. “Dean, I’m good with this. I _want_ it. And I want you to shut up and fuck me already. Enough of this talk, this worry. I’m not gonna regret it in the morning, okay?”

Dean shivered at Sam’s blunt words, at Sam’s touch. He had to remember that Sam was a guy underneath that curvy body; he wasn’t going to beat around the bush with subtlety. “Fuck, Sammy.”

“Exactly. I think you’re getting the picture now.” Sam smirked as he reached up with his free hand and untucked his towel, letting it drop to the floor at their feet with a quiet _whoosh_ of fabric _._

The elder Winchester got on board quickly after that; no thoughts, no worries, just basic need and want. He rocked up into Sam’s fist and groaned as he pulled him in for another kiss, wet, sloppy, greedy. Sam gave back as much as he took, tongue tangling with his brother’s for dominance.

Dean was aching to take his brother. A step forward and he pushed him down onto the bed, breaking their kiss and Sam’s grip around his dick. Sam lay there panting, breasts rising and falling beautifully with every breath. He tapped Sam’s leg to get him to scoot up on the bed and then proceeded to climb up over him until he blanketed Sam’s slight body.

“Sammy.” Dean ground his erection into Sam’s leg, feeling the slip/slide of precum on his brother’s skin. “This is just…god.” He dove in and sucked at the sun-kissed flesh of Sam’s neck, marking and nibbling as he continued to rut into his brother’s thigh. “I’ve fought so hard,” he murmured into the hollow of Sam’s throat as he worked his lips over the smooth skin. “But I want you…so bad.”

Sam bared more of his neck to Dean as he rocked up into the man’s thrusts and wrapped his arms around his brother, nails scraping into flesh as he did. His hands continued down the contours of muscled flesh until they reached the firm globes of Dean’s ass and gripped the man tightly. “Then fucking take me already. No more waiting.”

Dean had shifted and now had a handful of Sam’s right breast and was mouthing at the other while the fingers of his right hand found their way down to the heat between Sam’s legs. “So fucking wet for me, little brother. You really do want this, don’t you?” He dipped a finger into Sam’s slick hole and finger fucked him, adding a second a moment later. Sam let out a soft moan when Dean let his thumb pass over his clit.

“Dean… Yes…” Sam panted as he threw his legs up around Dean’s waist and tried to force him over to where he needed the man to be. “Stop fucking teasing and fuck me.”

Dean stilled for a moment and pulled his hand away. When he did, Sam’s heavy-lidded eyes blinked all the way open, questioning the sudden lack of anything, and the elder Winchester pushed up onto his forearm, brushing a stray hair out of his brother’s face and tucking it behind Sam’s ear. “You’re really sure about this?” Dean needed to know.

Sam’s lust-filled eyes stared up at Dean. He licked his lips and smiled. “How about this, if you don’t do this, I _will_ shoot you.”

At that, Dean chuckled as he pushed up and got off the bed.

“Dean?” Sam sat up, worry replacing the lust that had been on his face a second before.

“Condom, dude. I ain’t knockin’ up my little brother.”

“Oh. Yeah. Right.” Sam hadn’t thought about that. He lay back down and closed his eyes. This was going to happen, fucking really going to happen. He heard Dean tearing at the foil wrapper of a condom and looked over, watching the man roll the latex down over his dick.

Dean looked up and caught Sam watching. He’d love to do this without a barrier between them, but well, it wasn’t worth the risk. Neither of them was sure how long Sam was going to get stuck like this and they didn’t need to complicate matters even further.

As he climbed back up onto the bed, Sam spread his legs inviting Dean in. The elder Winchester slotted himself between his brother’s long limbs and settled there, slipping his cock through the slick of Sam’s juices. He stared into Sam’s eyes wanting to see his brother’s reaction as he took him. Canting his hips back he reached down in between them and grasped himself. He teased a little at Sam’s entrance and then slowly began to slide in.

Sam’s heart was pounding in his chest as he felt the blunt head of Dean’s cock finally pushing into him; he wanted this so badly. “Oh, god, Dean. Yes.” And then as the man continued to press his hard length in, he gasped in pain and bit down into Dean’s shoulder as he felt something give. “Fuck!” he hissed into his brother’s skin.

Dean stilled over him. “Oh, shit, Sammy! Y’okay? Fuck. I didn’t know.” He pushed up on his hands and looked down at Sam, concern written all over his face.

“What the hell was that?” Sex shouldn’t hurt like that. He knew his brother was well-endowed, but…

“You don’t know? I just popped your fucking cherry, that’s what. You were a goddamn virgin.” He grinned at the thought. “I guess you were my virginal little sister after all. Not anymore, I guess. – But seriously, y’okay?”

 _Virgin?_ Sam wanted to laugh, but instead he found himself blushing. Dean just took his virginity. What next? “Just fucking move already. I’m fine.” He was a little sore, but he’d live. He shifted his hips to get Dean moving again.

And Dean did, starting with small, tender thrusts at first, but he built up his rhythm when he was sure Sam wasn’t in any type of pain. “So fuckin’ tight, Sammy. After this, you’re mine, no one else’s… _ever_.” He thrust in hard then as if to prove his point, pushing Sam up a few inches on the bed, causing his brother to cry out.

“Dean! Shit…fuck… God, yeah. Yours. Always.” And then his words fell off and nothing coherent escaped his lips as Dean reached down and rubbed his sensitive bundle of nerves with his thumb again. “De-!” His fingers dug into the flesh of Dean’s back as he felt his peak fast approaching.

Dean could feel Sam’s muscles start to clench around him as his brother’s orgasm began to build up. He slowed his thrusts, wanting to savor the moment as he watched Sam starting to give in to the sensation, his body arching off the bed, eyes so dark, the hazel was nearly lost.

He shifted his position so that he was on his knees and sitting back on his heels. Lifting Sam’s hips up onto his thighs as he did, Dean began to pump into his brother, picking up the pace again. Sam closed his eyes in ecstasy as he writhed below Dean. “You’re so fuckin’ hot like this. C’mon, little brother, open your eyes so you can watch yourself come.” Dean knew his brother could see everything above them in the mirror. He changed his angle slightly as Sam followed his order. Just as he did, the younger Winchester tensed up and came, yelling his name.

It was all more than Dean could handle. His thrusts stuttered as he felt heat snaking through his body, shooting straight to his cock. “Fuck, Sammy! I’m gonna-” A low, guttural groan escaped from Dean’s throat as his orgasm tore through him; his whole body shook with the intensity of it. He allowed himself to rock in and out of his brother until it almost hurt to do so, finally pulling out and collapsing on Sam when he couldn’t take it anymore. “Fuck. Yeah, just…” He was at a loss for words, but he had no breath with which to talk anyway. Damn, he had just fucked his brother…and it felt more than a little good.

A couple of silent minutes passed as they both collected themselves and then, “Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Um, you’re gettin’ kinda heavy.”

Dean snorted. “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” He pushed up from the bed and headed into the bathroom to discard the used condom. While he was cleaning up, he heard his cell phone begin to ring. _Who the hell was calling at this time of night?_ When he came back out into the room, Sam was holding his still ringing phone out to him.

“It’s Bobby.”

Dean snatched the phone from his brother’s hand and answered it quickly. There was only one reason Bobby would be calling. He found something.

“Yeah, Bobby.”

“Can you talk?”

Dean glanced down at Sam; his brother was watching him, hair all tussled from just being fucked into the bed.

“Um…yeah.” He was sure Sam had a decent idea that he’d talked to Bobby about this, but his brother had never approached him since Dean had slipped up back at the mill. Not like there’d been much time anyway with him getting sick right after.

“Okay. If you’re sure... I found something on that there curse of yours, but you ain’t gonna like it.”

“Like anything’s ever easy for us,” Dean muttered more to himself than to Bobby. He sighed deeply and sat down on the bed next to Sam. If his brother wanted to eavesdrop, then so be it. “So what is it?”

“You, um-,” Bobby cleared his throat, “-you sorta have to-”

“Well, spit it out, Bobby.” Dean was growing impatient.

“Dammit, Dean. You have to have sex with your brother.”

Well, hell. They’d just done that. Dean glanced at his brother. Sam still had tits and certainly looked like a woman to him. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? That’s _all_ you could find?” Dean ran his hand up through his hair in disbelief.

“That’s it, Dean. I’m sorry.” Bobby sounded apologetic, not understanding the real reason Dean sounded so upset.

 _How could he tell Bobby that hadn’t worked? Maybe they had to do it more than once?_ “Exactly how many times do we have to, you know, do the deed?”

“Didn’t say. But I’m hoping just once…for your sakes anyway.”

“We don’t need a few magic words or anything like that to go along with it?” There had to be something more to it.

“Nope. Just a good ol’ fashioned roll in the hay.”

“Huh.”

“You alright, Dean?” Bobby asked after not hearing anything more from the younger hunter. “I know this ain’t what you wanna hear, but it’s-”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Dean interrupted any further explanation from the man. Meanwhile, he _was_ freaking out. The only thing Bobby had been able to come up with after all this time didn’t work. Then an idea dawned on him. “How long after the, um, act would it take for _her_ to become _him_?” Maybe Sam would wake up in the morning as _Sam_ again.

“Dean, the passage I found was vague on the topic as it was. I had to read between the lines to even get what I found. It didn’t give any fine details. I guess you’ll just have to find out for yourselves…that’s if you two can actually suck it up and do the act in the first place. Sam’s probably going to lynch you when he finds out. I’m glad I don’t have to be there when you break the news to ‘im. – I wish there was some other way, but this is it.”

“We’ll deal with it. It can’t be as bad as some of the other shit we’ve already dealt with.”

“I’m so glad you’re taking this with just a grain of salt.” The words came out with a slight tone of sarcasm. “Seems messed up to me, but you made your bed, guess you gotta go sleep in it, literally. Just give me a call and let me know after…”

 _Awkward._ “Yeah, we’ll call and let you know if it works.” They said their goodbyes and then Dean tossed his phone onto the nightstand.

“So?” Sam asked expectantly.

Dean looked at the floor in front of him. _How was he going to tell Sam there was nothing?_

“Dude, I _know._ Okay? I know you called Bobby looking for a fix for me. You don’t need to hide it anymore. I’m sorta glad you did.”

Dean looked at his brother then. “Sam… That’s not it. Shit, I’m so sorry.”

“What?” Sam tensed up.

“It’s fucked up, but what he found, well, we’ve already done it. And you’re still…,” he gestured to Sam’s womanly body, “not a guy.”

“What the hell did he say, Dean?”

“That I need to fuck you.”

Sam swallowed then. “Oh.”

They were both quiet for a while. Then Sam said, “Maybe it needs time. Last time I woke up like this. Maybe I’ll wake up _me_ in the morning.”

“Either that or we’re gonna have to buy you a whole new wardrobe.”

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

No more was said on the subject as they settled into their beds for the night. But each knew what the other was thinking. Sam was stuck.

Dean was just starting to doze when he heard the covers on Sam’s bed rustling and then a few seconds later, the edge of his bed dipped and his brother crawled in beside him. Neither of them said a word. Dean shifted onto his side, spooning Sam, and wrapped his arm around him, kissing the top of his head.

Tomorrow was still a few hours away.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bear with me. I don't play poker, so the poker scene was all researched online. Some things may or may not be perfect. I tried :) Let's just say I know a little more about Texas Hold 'Em than I used to, not enough to start placing bets though. LOL!

The brothers slept somewhat fitfully, each worrying about what the morning would bring. Dean was currently on his back staring at the reflection of himself and Sam lying together under the sheets; it was still girl Sam, not boy Sam, who he was looking at. He hadn’t had much hope to begin with, but what little there had been was gone now that the sun had peeked over the horizon.

As he lay there, he knew he should be having some kind of ‘holy-shit-I-fucked-my-brother-last-night’ moment, but he didn’t. It felt right somehow and he was frighteningly at peace with it. A very small and selfish part of him was relieved that Sam was still a ‘she’. Once Sam was a ‘he’ again, there was a good chance his brother might not want this anymore and the idea scared the crap out of him. He wasn’t sure if he could handle the emotional fallout. And then there was also the chance Sam might kick his ass for taking advantage of him…Dean would have no choice but to let him.

The morning rays of light began to filter through the sheer curtains and were slowly making their way toward the bed; Dean watched as the shadows shifted ever so slowly in the room as the minutes passed. There were still several hours before they had to pack up and leave; the room was only paid up through this morning. Dean wasn’t sure where they were going to go, but he’d had enough of this place; he was feeling the need to have the road under his Baby’s wheels again.

The younger Winchester was still asleep for the moment; he knew his brother hadn’t slept well, had felt him moving around quite a bit throughout the remainder of the night. Dean turned onto his side and wrapped an arm around Sam’s waist. His brother had slipped into his flannel shirt before going to bed the night before; it was soft under Dean’s fingers as he tucked them up under it, feeling the warmth of Sam’s skin.

Sam shifted then and rolled towards Dean. He blinked his eyes open and yawned. “Mmm, mornin’,” he said with a smile. Then the reality of his situation hit and he became quiet.

“You’re still you, you know,” Dean tried to comfort Sam. He leaned over and gave his brother a chaste kiss on the lips. When he started to break away, Sam reached up to stop him and pulled him back in for another deeper kiss, tongue sweeping over his lips and pushing into his mouth. The kiss had a desperate quality to it and Dean saw why after. When they broke apart, he saw tears in Sam’s eyes.

“Sammy, c’mon, kiddo. Don’t do that. Nothing’s really changed. You can still do everything you’ve always done. And I’m still here for you.”

“But Dean…”

Dean knew exactly what Sam was thinking about. His deal. As of today, he had exactly four months left. He pulled his brother in for a hug and just held him close, Sam’s head tucked in under his chin. For a while they both lay like that, Dean feeling the subtle tremors passing through Sam’s body as he quietly cried into his chest. He didn’t know what to say.

“We’ll do our best, alright?” he said after a while. Sam nodded quietly and Dean rubbed his shoulder. “Hey, how’s about we get up and shower? Maybe grab a bite to eat before we blow this joint.” He pulled away from Sam and looked down at him. His brother’s cheeks were wet with tears and Dean wiped them away with a certain tenderness to his touch. “C’mon. Up. Shower.” He shifted and got out of bed, reaching over to pull an upset Sam up with him.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

The shower lasted until the water began to turn cold. Dean kept things low key; he held Sam more than anything as the water sprayed over them and Sam was appreciative of that. Last night had been fantastic, but waking up this morning in the wrong body had left him downright devastated. If it wasn’t for Dean forcing his ass out of bed, Sam probably would have stayed there all day buried under the blankets.

“So, any ideas on where you wanna go?” Dean asked from across the table at the diner, mouth full of the last bite of food he had taken. He was working his way through a breakfast burrito which was sitting on his plate already half-eaten; Sam could smell the strong scent of onions and peppers in it from where he was sitting and it rankled at his nose.

“Not really,” Sam shrugged as he picked at his fruit cup, pushing some blueberries around.

“I was thinking somewhere like Texas. I know a few good places down there where I can rustle up some extra cash. Plus it’s warmer.” Dean drained the last of the coffee from his cup and then caught their waitress’ attention; bottomless refills weren’t something to be ignored. After she came over and topped them both off with fresh coffee, he continued, “And then, I don’t know, maybe we could head east if you want.” Dean wasn’t going to come right out and say it, but Louisiana was on his mind. He was leaving that door open for Sam if that’s really what his brother wanted.

“No, Dean. I know what you’re doing and I appreciate it, but just no, okay?” He speared a strawberry with his fork and forced himself to eat it. “No hoodoo.”

“Alright,” he nodded solemnly, “then I guess we can just drive until we find another job somewhere.”

Fifteen minutes later, Dean paid their bill and they were on the road.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

A little over fourteen hours later and they were just outside of Austin, Texas.

As they rolled into town, it was just after midnight and Dean was asleep in the passenger seat, the warm breeze from the open window cutting through his short, sandy hair. Sam was beyond tired as he pulled into the lot of the first motel he spotted when he exited the highway. A neon sign in the shape of a cactus reflected a brilliant green off the hood of the Impala as he parked under it to go into the office. Dean didn’t flinch when Sam got out of the car. The man was obviously exhausted; he’d done well more than half the driving.

After Sam settled things up with the guy in the office, he pulled the car around back to their room. By then, Dean was starting to stir.

“Where are we?” he grumbled, voice rough with sleep.

“Just outside of Austin. C’mon. I got us a room.” Sam pushed the car door open and stepped out. He heard Dean get out a moment later.

After they retrieved their bags from the trunk, Sam keyed open the door and flicked the lights on. Dean stopped next to him.

The room had a Texan flavor to it; the headboard and footboard of the _single_ king-sized bed in the room resembled wooden ranch fencing; the topmost blanket looked like cowhide. Hell, there was even a genuine cattle skull hanging on the wall above it. (Dean wasn’t too sure on that when he looked at it later.) Paneling made from some kind of dark wood ran along the lower half of the walls, while the upper half was wallpapered in a 70’s cowboy theme, beige background with cowboys twirling lassos and riding bucking broncos. The half-wall divider between the main room and the kitchenette had ironwork that reached up from it to the ceiling and it had wooden carvings of cattle decorating it at intermittent points along its grillwork.

“One bed?” was all Dean said, still half asleep.

“Do we really need two anymore?” Sam answered as he dropped his bags to the floor. “I thought you’d be okay with it.” Dean’s reaction made the younger Winchester wonder if he had made the wrong decision. _Was Dean ready to make this move so soon?_

Of course Sam would think they should start sleeping in the same bed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Dean was going to have to get used to their new sleeping arrangements…not that he was really complaining about it. Hey, it was cheaper, too.

Dean kicked out of his shoes and began the normal routine of putting salt lines down. Not long after, the brothers were out cold on the bed, Dean on his stomach, clothes still on and Sam curled up into his side, stripped out of his pants and overshirt. They had been too tired to do much more than that.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Sam was surprised when he woke up and found Dean already fully dressed and sitting at the table reading a local newspaper while stuffing what smelled like a warm blueberry muffin into his mouth; he could smell the delicious aroma of coffee in the air as well.

“Mornin’, Sam. Sleep good?” Dean picked up his coffee and knocked back a large gulp.

The younger Winchester groaned and forced himself to sit up, stretching his arms out over his head. “Got some for me?”

“Yep. There’s muffins in the bag, too. Chocolate chip, cranberry, blueberry. Take your pick.” He stuffed the last chunk of his muffin into his mouth and licked his fingers off.

Dean couldn’t keep his eyes off of Sam as his brother got up to cross the room; he was only dressed in a clingy t-shirt and a black thong. _Sammy really needs to stop doing that._ “Hey, since when did you get into wearing those things?” Dean asked as he shifted in his seat, scolding his lower bits as they started to wake up.

Sam looked down to where Dean’s eyes were. “I don’t know. They’re just more comfortable.”

“And you would know that how?” Dean prodded teasingly. “You been keeping secrets from me, Sammy? Something I should know?”

“Dean…,” he groaned out. “Just never mind.”

“Yeah, okay. Whatever you say.” But Dean waggled an eyebrow and the corner of his lip lifted in an appreciative smile. “Keep wearin’ ‘em. They look good on you.”

Sam felt the heat of a blush rising up his neck and onto his cheeks; he hoped it wasn’t going to become a habit. Instead of replying, he picked up his coffee as he sat down at the table and peeled back the tab on the lid. He needed to wake up before dealing with his brother.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

“There’s a big poker tournament downtown tonight,” Dean stated from behind the newspaper as Sam came out of the bathroom from showering. “I think I’m gonna get in on it. If I can win something, even if it’s one of the smaller pots, it should help with our cash flow.”

“How are we looking on the credit cards?” Unfortunately, they had to sit back and take a good look at their financial state more often than not these days. “I know mine is getting near its end.”

“I’ve got two that are still good. Maybe in a another week or so we’ll put out some applications, see what we can get.” Dean folded the newspaper and set it down on the table next to the empty muffin bag. “After tonight, we’ll work our way down the strip towards Houston. By then, I ought to have us set for a while, at least on the cash.”

Sam heard the ‘I’ in there and bristled at it. “Dean, I’m not handicapped. I can still play. It’s a lot easier when we work together and you know it. And, shit,” he gestured to himself, “eye candy. I think I can knock someone off their game just by walking in the room now.”

“Sam-” Dean knew what his brother was saying was true, but he didn’t want Sam flaunting it. He couldn’t keep fighting off every guy who ogled Sam and wanted a piece of him.

“You’re not gonna tell me ‘no’. I’ll pass on the poker tonight; that’s more your thing, but don’t try to keep me from helping. I seem to recall you saying something about me still being able to do everything I used to.”

Dean chewed at the inside of his cheek as Sam stared at him, daring him to deny him. “Yeah, alright.” He gave in, not wanting to start another argument. Sam wasn’t going to break and his brother was more than capable of taking care of himself in _most_ situations. “Just make sure you always have something on you for protection.” At Sam’s startled look, he laughed. “Dude, not... I’m talkin’ a weapon you’re willing to use. You’re not as strong as you used to be. Just look at what happened back in Baltimore. I can’t be keepin’ an eye on your ass if I’m hustlin’.” _Although he’d like to never take his eyes off Sam’s ass…_

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Sam silently kept watch from the bar as Dean wrapped up the final game of the night. All eyes in the room were on the table where his brother and three other players sat along with the dealer; everything was at stake with this game. Most people had steered clear of Sam after they realized he was attached to Dean, but he still kept his guard up just in case.

The players were on their last hand and the turn card had just been dealt; Dean was waiting to see who would fall. He eyed the three other men (aside from the dealer) sitting around the table; it was down to them.

The guy to the left of him was big and brawny, gnawing on the stub of a cigar. His bodily odor wafted across the foot and a half of space separating them and made Dean want to offer him some soap. The lower his pile of chips got, the higher his temper was rising.

The creep across the table from him had a cowboy hat on, covering his greasy, raven-black hair. He had such a deep southern drawl that Dean could hardly understand a word he said. The hunter had taken an immediate disliking to the man when he saw him eying Sam up and down a few times before the game had started. More than once, Dean had given him a threatening glare.

The last guy was Dean’s biggest competition; he was sitting to Dean’s right and was attired in a sleek business suit sans jacket. The man knew his cards and he had no tell that Dean could pick up on.

The dealer was sitting at Dean’s eleven o’clock between the guy to his left and the cowboy. It was Cowboy’s turn to decide what he was going to do. He raised the bet, pushing in all but a small handful of his chips. The businessman called, as did Dean. They waited for the man on the other side of Dean.

“Fuck,” the guy growled after staring at his cards. “I fold.” He stood up, pushed his chair back with a kick, and stormed off through the gathered crowd.

The dealer pulled the final river card from the deck and turned it face-up at the center of the table.

Dean raised an eyebrow without saying a word, but he rubbed at the scruff of his five o’clock shadow (it was one of his fake tells to put his opponents off) as he lifted his cards to study them while eying the community cards from the dealer. He then looked across the table to the cowboy, saw the tell-tale twitch over his left eye. The guy glanced up from his cards, looked over at the businessman, then to Dean. He checked, not wanting to open the bet.

It was the businessman’s call now. He raised the bet by his remaining chips. The hunter met him again, pushing in the last of his chips as well.

“Shit. Too rich for my blood. I fold,” came the deep drawl from across the table. The cowboy got up and left. Dean watched him until he walked out of the building, making sure he stayed away from Sam.

Dean looked back at his only remaining competitor. Somehow it didn’t surprise him that the man hadn’t folded. “Well, I guess it’s down to you and me then.” Dean gave a final look at his cards. They were good, better than good actually. He wanted to smile, but held back. Dean lifted his eyes to Sam who was sitting near the bar watching him intently. What Sam didn’t know was that Dean had had to put up nearly the last of their cash to get in on this game; he needed to win this.

“You gonna show or what?” the businessman asked, sounding slightly impatient.

Dean looked up from his cards; the guy was smiling at him. He either had a really good hand or was really good at faking it. “Yeah.” He flipped his two cards over and heard a few quiet curses around the table. Straight Flush in hearts.

“Goddammit!” The businessman cursed as he turned his cards over. A straight as well, but not flush. Not quite enough. Then the man grinned and held his hand out to Dean. The hunter looked at the offered hand and then took it. “It’s been a while since I’ve had someone decent to play against. You earned it, son.” And then he turned, grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair, and left.

Letting himself smile then, Dean turned to collect his winnings, but instead found Sam in his arms pulling him down for a kiss.

“Jesus, Dean, how much is that?” Sam asked afterward.

“Twenty-five hundred.” Dean’s smile ran from ear to ear, giving Sam’s a run for its money. “Let’s go cash out and get outta here. I think we need to do a little celebrating.”

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

They were back at the room and Dean dumped his coat off on the chair as he headed over to the table with a large pizza. Sam came in the door just behind him with a brown paper bag in his hand. He dropped it off on the table as he headed into kitchenette to look for some glasses.

“I still can’t believe you won.” It was probably the tenth time Sam had said it, but the hand Dean had had wasn’t easy to come by, and to pull it in the last round was just pure luck. He found some glasses and rinsed them out in the sink before returning to the table.

Dean was already digging into the pizza. He had taken a bite and was battling with a string of cheese. When he was able to answer, he just said, “Dude, it’s me we’re talking about here.”

Sam shook his head and laughed. Sure he was making Dean’s head get bigger about the whole thing every time he said it, but he could deal with it tonight. With what his brother had brought in, they wouldn’t have to go trekking across Texas through a dozen bars risking their asses with the hustle.

He set the glasses down between them and then pulled the two bottles they purchased from the bag. They had splurged and bought top-shelf whiskey tonight. Filling one glass, Sam pushed it over to Dean and then he filled his own.

“How about a toast?” Dean asked.

“Sure.” Sam picked up his glass and waited for his brother.

“To our future and whatever it may hold for us.” The elder Winchester smiled and held his glass out.

Sam hesitated for a moment, but then clinked glasses with Dean. “To our future.”

They both drank their glasses down and Sam refilled them before taking out a slice of pizza.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Safe in their room, the brothers allowed themselves to indulge a little after they finished eating, both sinking down in the bed next to each other with the second bottle of whiskey being passed between them.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Sammy?” Dean looked down at his brother; the light from the television gave Sam’s features a soft glow as he lay up against Dean’s side with his head resting on his shoulder.

Sam turned and reached down to the hem of his brother’s shirt, pulling it up to expose the golden expanse of skin hidden beneath it. He began pressing his lips to Dean’s stomach, causing the man’s muscles to flutter from the tickling sensation. “I love you.” The words were said in between the soft kisses. Right now, Sam was feeling pretty awesome from the liquor and held none of his usual inhibitions.

Dean took in a breath as Sam’s lips ghosted over his flesh. His skin was already tingling from the whiskey, and Sam’s gentle touches were setting his oversensitive nerves on fire, the heat going directly to his crotch. “Love you, too, Sam,” he replied as he set the mostly empty bottle aside on the nightstand and then shifted so he could pull his shirt off to give Sam more room to roam.

Sam sat up and followed his brother’s lead, tugging his shirt off and then reached back to unfasten his bra. He couldn’t quite get the thing undone; his alcohol sodden brain had cut his dexterity down to next to null. Obviously he’d taken too long working at the clasp because suddenly Dean sat up and wrapped his arms around him, shooing his hands away and so he could take care of it.

“Those things are always a bitch.” Dean smirked as he pulled the garment away and tossed it onto the floor before leaning in to lave at Sam’s neck. “Mmm, I want you tonight.” He started to push Sam back on the bed, but his brother resisted and he stopped mid-motion, pulling back and looking at Sam in question. “What?”

“I wanna do things to you tonight, De.” The words had a slight slur to them; Sam knew he probably drank more than he should have, but he knew he was safe with Dean. “I wanna make you feel good. Let me?”

Dean’s eyes darkened when Sam made his intentions known. “Jesus, Sammy. Yeah, okay.”

“Get the rest of your clothes off,” Sam demanded of his brother as he slid from the bed and began to divest himself of his remaining clothes. It wasn’t as easy as it should have been what with the room starting to spin around him, but he managed (even if he did trip up on the second leg of his jeans). When he was done, he fell back to the bed a little harder than he normally would and practically slithered over Dean’s god-like nude form.

Sam let his tongue drag up Dean’s inner thigh, while pushing his legs apart to gain access to where he really wanted to be. When he reached his brother’s groin, he breathed in deeply, taking in the musky scent that was all Dean, and then blew a breath over his cock causing it to jump against the man’s stomach. Sam smiled as he nuzzled into the wiry hairs at its base before flicking his tongue over Dean’s balls eliciting a lustful moan from his brother.

“Sam…” Dean’s fingers were suddenly in his hair, threading through his long locks.

Sam lapped at the skin of his brother’s ball sac before sucking one into his mouth and fondling it with his tongue. Dean was starting to move under him and he released the one, only to take the other in to show it equal attention.

Dean’s hand in his hair tightened and pulled subtly, urging him upwards. “Fuck, Sammy.” Sam allowed himself to be maneuvered toward his brother’s leaking cock and darted his tongue over the head, dipping into the small slit and tasting the flavor of precum gathered there. Dean’s body arched off the bed at the initial contact.

“I need… Now, Sam.” Dean rocked up trying to find the heat of his brother’s mouth, but Sam held him down as he swirled his tongue around the crown and teased by only sucking the head into his mouth. “Jesus, you’re killin’ me here, little brother.”

Sam rolled his eyes up so he could see Dean and the man was propped up on the pillows staring at him, watching his tongue, his lips, his mouth…and Sam could feel himself getting wet with need. Finally, he opened up and took Dean in, inch by inch, until his brother’s cock hit the back of his throat.

“Yeah, just like that,” Dean whispered between ragged breaths as his other hand fell to Sam’s shoulder.

Sam bobbed his head up and down, hollowing his cheeks, trying to create as much suction as he could for his brother. He pressed his tongue against the thick vein on the underside of Dean’s cock and let his teeth drag the tiniest bit, keeping just to this side of the pain/pleasure line. As he continued to suck at his brother’ s length, he reached down, let his fingers drift over the pucker of Dean’s hole, and then squeezed the man’s balls gently.

A noise like Sam had never heard before left Dean’s mouth and he looked up to see an almost pained expression on his face as the man was struggling to hold off on his nearing climax; Sam suddenly felt his brother’s dick twitch in his mouth. This wasn’t how he wanted it to end tonight. A couple more quick bobs of his head and Sam pulled off before Dean could shoot his load.

Before Dean knew what was going on, Sam moved over him, straddling him, and then sank down onto his cock. And his brother began to ride him. “Fuck!” he hissed when he found himself suddenly surrounded by Sam’s wet heat. Dean shifted just a little so he could grasp onto Sam’s thighs; it gave him some needed leverage as he started thrusting up into his brother’s tight channel. He was so goddamn close. “Sam… Yeah, baby. Feels good. Almost there.”

When Sam leaned down and pushed his tongue into his mouth, Dean lost it. The whiskey had dampened his self-control and he gave a long, hard, deep thrust as he sucked Sam’s tongue into his mouth, chasing it as he hit his peak and spilled his seed into his brother.

Sam rocked down onto him, shuddering, his moan lost in their kiss as he came seconds later. Dean reached up to wrap his arms around Sam and then rolled them onto their sides, his spent cock slipping out of his brother moments later.

_Shit._

“Hey, Sam?”

“Hmm…” Sam was blissfully nodding off on Dean’s shoulder.

“Dude, I think you forgot something.” Dean lifted his head and looked down at the younger Winchester.

“Nah, I think we covered everything.” Sam giggled drunkenly and slipped an arm around Dean.

“Condom, Sam. You forgot the damn condom.”

Sam’s giggles stilled. He opened his eyes, raising his brow as he looked back up at Dean. And then he giggled again, clearly too intoxicated to care.

“Yeah, I thought so.” Dean groaned and dropped his head back down to the pillow. It was just as much his fault as it was Sam’s…probably _more_ his than Sam’s since he wasn’t nearly as shitfaced as his little brother. He lay there trying to remember exactly how a woman’s cycle went, but his inebriated mind wasn’t cooperating. Eventually, he just gave up. It was too late now.

Soon, he heard Sam softly snoring at his side and he smiled. His brother still drank like he was his usual one hundred-eighty pound self. Sam was going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning.

As he lay there contemplating everything that had gone on between himself and Sam in the last few weeks, Dean’s bladder started to complain. With a frustrated sigh, he gently pulled out from under Sam and headed into the bathroom. After taking care of business, he filled a glass with water and drank it down. Then he refilled it and brought it out to Sam. It was the least he could do.

“Sammy.” He shook his brother by the shoulder until he stirred. “C’mon. Drink some water down, kiddo, or you’re gonna have a killer headache in the morning.” Sam half sat up with Dean’s help and took the proffered drink.

“Thanks, Dean.”

“Yep. Go ahead and go back to sleep. I’ll leave a couple aspirin and some more water here on the nightstand for you if you need it.”

“Mmm, yeah, okay,” Sam drawled out as he rolled over onto his stomach and fell back asleep almost instantly.

Dean laughed and shook his head as he stood back up. Finding himself hungry, he walked back over to the table and lifted the lid to the pizza box. There was one slice left and he pulled it out. It wasn’t half bad considering it was cold now.

He had sobered up fairly quickly once he realized their mistake and now he was no longer tired. If Sam got pregnant – _Could he really?_ – what the hell would they do? He knew it was only one time, but there were an infinite number of ‘We only did it one time’ stories out there. Yeah, that thought was more than a little sobering.

He took another bite out of his pizza as he watched Sam sleeping. It was the only time Sam looked peaceful these days. His brother was having a bitch of a time hiding his worries about Dean the closer they got to the May deadline. It was wearing on Sam badly, but Dean knew if he had to do it all over again, he would do the same damn thing if it meant saving his brother. What was really killing Dean, though, was watching Sam die a little more each day because of what they both knew, deep down, they couldn’t stop. Dean was going to die.

“Shit,” he muttered to himself and then got up to search out Sam’s laptop bag. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to spend a little time researching his deal. Maybe he’d find something Sam hadn’t. It didn’t happen very often – after all, Sam was the research guru – but there had been a few times where Dean had struck gold.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Sam rolled over. The bed beside him was empty and he strained his eyes to look at the clock. 3:27 a.m. _Where was Dean?_

“Dean?”

“I’m here, Sam.”

Sam looked across the darkened room and saw Dean sitting in front of the laptop at the table, the soft light of the computer screen illuminating his face. “What’re you doin’?”

“Reading.” Dean looked up over the lid of the computer; he’d been deeply engrossed in some archaic text which had been scanned and uploaded to a site he sometimes referred to; it had been deep in their archives. “How’re you feelin’?”

He’d had some time to sleep off most of the effects of the whiskey binge. A slight twinge of a headache was nagging at him, but mostly he was okay. “I’m fine, jus’ gotta pee.” Sam untangled his lower half from the blankets that had bound up around him and sat up on the edge of the bed. For just a second, the room turned on its end and he braced himself with his hand. “Shit,” he mumbled before slowly standing up.

“You sure you’re alright?” he heard Dean asking behind him.

“I’m drunk, Dean. And everything else that comes with it.” Sam started heading off to the bathroom. As he got to the door, he stopped, feeling a warm trickle coming from between his legs. _You gotta be shittin’ me._ It couldn’t be his period again; it was too soon. Then Dean’s words from earlier sank it. In his less-than-sober sexual escapade with his brother, he’d completely forgotten to grab a condom. “Ewww…”

“Sam?”

“Nothing, just got your fucking cum running down my leg is all.”

“Hey, it takes two to tango, dude.”

Sam snorted a laugh. Maybe he hadn’t slept off enough of the booze because Dean’s words struck him as funny. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He disappeared into the bathroom to take a leak and clean up.

Five minutes later, Sam reappeared. The light-headedness hadn’t gotten any better; as a matter of fact, it was getting worse. He barely made it halfway across the room before his eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed to the floor.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Dean was just about to shut down the computer, exhaustion finally catching up to him, when Sam came out of the bathroom. The kid didn’t make it more than five feet before he dropped to the floor.

“Sammy!” He stood up quickly, knocking his chair over to the ground as he ran across the room to his brother. Dean lifted Sam up from the floor and carried him over to the bed, turning the bedside lamp on after he laid him down. “Hey, Sam.” He sat down on the bed beside Sam, pushing his brother’s unruly hair out of his face and looked for some sign of awareness. Nothing.

Sam’s breathing was slow as was his pulse when he checked it. He felt Sam’s forehead; it actually felt a little cool to the touch. “Dammit.” From what Dean could see, the bottle of whiskey his brother had downed finally caught up with him, at least he hoped that’s all this was. He should have shut Sam down a lot sooner.

A yawn snuck its way up on Dean and he tried to stifle it as he sat there. After watching Sam for another couple of minutes and deciding there was nothing else he could do, he reached over to turn the lamp back off and got up to go over to his side of the bed. He shucked out of his jeans, tossing them to the floor and then slid into bed behind Sam, pulling him close. His brother was just going to have to sleep this off. Hopefully, he’d be okay come morning.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

The first thing Sam noticed when he woke up the next morning was the killer fucking headache. The second thing he noticed was Dean’s warm body wrapped around his own. And the third thing he noticed was Dean’s morning wood pressed into his ass crack. Two of those things were good, the other not so much.

Sam rolled over with a deep groan and cracked open his eyes. His movement had caused his brother to stir, but not quite wake up. He stared at Dean’s full lips and the sudden urge to kiss the man was upon him…so that’s what he did.

Dean lazily reciprocated without opening his eyes and Sam smiled into the kiss; his brother was just too cute. When he finally broke the kiss and pulled away, Dean opened his eyes.

And he saw the shocked look in those wide, moss green orbs for no more than half a second before Dean shot up and stumbled backwards, falling from the bed, and cracking his head on the side of the nightstand.

“Ow! Son of a fuckin’ bitch!”

“Dean-”

And that’s when Sam realized what his brother had seen, why he had freaked out and was now on the floor like Sam had been just under a month ago.


	8. Chapter 8

Sam launched himself over the edge of the bed, headache temporarily forgotten – the fact that he was a _he_ again temporarily forgotten – and pulled a dazed Dean up from the floor. He had heard Dean’s skull connect with the hard wood of the nightstand and needed to get to his brother to make sure he was alright.

“Dean, man, fuck, y’okay?” Sam pulled his brother up from the floor into a sitting position and noticed a gash on his temple; there was a thin trail of blood running down the side of the man’s face.

Dean lifted his hand to the wound and applied pressure to it, wincing at the sharp sting. The knock to the head along with _Sam_ was a little too much for him to deal with all at once, causing him to groan and roll his head back against the edge of the mattress. “Just give me a minute.”

Waking up to Sam kissing him this morning had been exquisite; he could get used to that. But waking up to _guy_ Sam with his tongue down his throat took a little getting used to…or rather, a lot getting used to.

He hated the idea that he could possibly be that shallow. After all, he’d already come to the conclusion that he loved Sam no matter what (male or female he reminded himself), but, _fuck_ , Dean wasn’t gay, not even close. And to be kissing another guy, just…yeah. Obviously Sam hadn’t changed now that he was _him_ again; he’d been the one pushing his tongue down Dean’s throat to begin with.

“Dean?”

The elder Winchester cracked his eyes open and looked at Sam. His gaze drifted down his brother’s naked torso, the hard lines of his _male_ chest, his well-defined abs, all the way down to the fine dusting of hair below his navel before he couldn’t see anything else from the way Sam was squatting in front of him. It was probably a good thing, too, since he wasn’t sure if he could handle that right now. And Dean wasn’t sure how Sam would handle him freaking out right now. He suddenly wasn’t sure about a lot of things.

“Dean?” Sam said his name again causing Dean to force his focus back up to the man’s face. It was the same face, but not the same. The bone structure was _Sam_ again; the nose, the square jawline, the high forehead, not to mention the worried set of his features which Dean had seen time and time again over the years.

“I’m good, Sam. Just a little…well, surprised is all.” He tried to smile as he held out a hand. “Help me up, would you?”

Sam stood up, and god help him, but Dean looked at all that. _Christ._ He snapped his gaze up to Sam’s hand as the man held it out to him; he took it and before he knew it, Dean was being hefted up from the floor. He was thankful that he was in his boxer briefs, because two naked guys that close to each other…

Dean took a minute to get his bearings and then excused himself to the bathroom. “I gotta take care of this lump on my head.”

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Sam watched as Dean closed the door to the bathroom behind him.

He wasn’t stupid. Not even close. He saw Dean’s reaction for what it was. His brother was having a problem with the whole _together_ thing now that he had a cock instead of breasts and a vagina.

While Dean was in the bathroom taking care of whatever physical and mental needs he felt he had to, Sam went to his bag. He dug through the small assortment of girl things on the top until he reached his regular clothing. He’d let Dean work this out for a while on his own.

A few minutes later, Sam pulled his jacket on and grabbed the car keys from Dean’s coat pocket. He’d go out and grab a couple of coffees and some breakfast. Maybe by the time he got back, Dean would have calmed down enough so they could talk about this.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Dean was leaning over the sink in the bathroom, fingers gripping the edge of the chintzy laminate countertop. He was staring down at the rust-colored water stains in the basin as his mind tried to come to terms with what was going on.

Distantly, he heard the motel door open and close, then the rumble of the Impala starting up.

“Fuck,” he muttered. He’d already scared Sam off, fucked up this… _whatever…_ they had going on. “Good going, moron.”

He should be happy. Sam was _Sam_ again, a strong, masculine _MAN_. It’s who Sam was, what Sam should be. Dean knew that. And he thought he’d be okay with that. Hell, while Sam was a woman, Dean had told himself he was in this whether Sam was a _he_ or a _she_. Now that he’d been confronted with the reality of his brother being a man again, he wasn’t so sure he could do it. It was tearing him up because he really and truly wanted this.

Reaching over to turn the hot water faucet on, Dean grabbed a clean wash cloth from the rack. He began to dab at the small cut on his temple; it had already stopped bleeding. The worst thing that would come of it was a bruise which was already forming.

A little while later, Dean came back out into the room and got dressed. The two of them were going to have to work this out. Sam would be patient; he knew that.

As he sat down on the bed and waited for his brother to get back from wherever he’d run off to, Dean wondered why the curse had come to an end this time and not the last. Sex was sex. Right?

It only took him another minute to figure it out… _the condom,_ or rather lack thereof. That’s what it had to be. Sam’s screw-up had been his cure.

Suddenly, the door opened and Sam came in with a tray of coffees and two bags of food balanced in the crook of his arm. Dean jumped up and met him at the door before their breakfast ended up all over the floor.

“Dude, you got bacon.” His grin was genuine as he relieved Sam of his burden and brought the bags over to the table, mouth already watering.

“And eggs. And pancakes. Take your pick. I’ll take whatever you don’t,” Sam said as he took the coffee cups out of the tray and placed one down in front of his brother who was already digging through the bags of food and then opened his own to take a long draw from it. He took the empty seat on the other side of the table.

‘’I think pancakes will work.” Dean popped open the Styrofoam container filled with pancakes and bacon and then quickly searched through the pile of napkins and plastic forks until he found the small containers of syrup which he then proceeded to douse everything with.

Sam watched his brother as he ate; he couldn’t help but smile. Dean was your stereotypical male; food was the way to his heart. After Dean looked like he was settled in, Sam opened his container of eggs and began to eat. His headache was still lingering, but coffee and food could usually work it out of his system.

He eyed the cut on Dean’s temple as he ate. “How’s the head?”

“Just a scratch,” Dean replied as he stuffed a slice of bacon into his mouth, letting out an almost sinful moan as its salty flavor engulfed his taste buds.

A few quiet minutes passed by and then, “You okay?” Sam asked before taking a bite of his eggs. He watched Dean, waiting to see how his brother reacted to the question.

“Of course, Sam. I’ve had worse.”

Dean was avoiding the real question. _Fucking Dean. Always hiding when it came to his emotions._ “Yeah, of course you are.” Sam stabbed at his eggs a little harder than necessary.

They ate the rest of their food in silence.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

“So, are we staying another day or hitting the road?” Sam asked as he cleaned up their empty food containers so he could throw them away.

“You have a preference?” Dean asked as he sat back in his chair and sipped his coffee. “Either way, we’re gonna have to get a move on. Check-out’s in less than a half hour.”

Sam had a choice. He could sit here in a motel room with his brother and, once more, avoid the elephant in the room (this time Sam pictured it to be white and orange with zigzagging stripes), or sit in the Impala and avoid said animal as it sat in the backseat glaring at the two of them. Either way it was going to suck.

“Let’s just go,” he finally said.

With that, they both got up to collect their belongings. At 10:56 a.m., Sam returned their key to the office and they hit the road. Northeast. Neither discussed the direction; it was just where the road led them.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Dean drove…nearly ten hours straight, only pulling over when the need for gas or a bathroom break arose.

During the first hour, Sam remained in his own little world. Dean was hiding behind his dark sunglasses once more while Robert Plant’s loud voice blared from the speakers.

Late into the second hour, Sam reached over and turned the volume down. When Dean’s hand shot up to stop him, Sam surprised his brother by grabbing it and lacing his fingers through Dean’s. He slid across the bench seat, refusing to let go even as the man attempted to pull away. Eventually, Dean gave in and Sam sandwiched his brother’s hand between his own and his jean clad thigh.

“I’m still me, you know,” Sam said softly as he rested his head on Dean’s shoulder, almost mirroring his brother’s words of a few days ago.

Dean kept his eyes on the road, but a quiet “I know, Sam” fell from his lips as he squeezed Sam’s hand to reassure his brother that things would be okay somehow.

They remained like that for some time. It was overly obvious that Dean was having issues with the whole gender thing. Sam knew the man was as straight as an arrow; that was one of the reasons he had kept his feelings for his brother buried for so long, aside from the whole incest thing. Dean had barely gotten over that particular hurdle (which Sam was still shocked about), but now he had to make the Grand Canyon-sized leap into accepting a gay relationship. _Could Dean do that?_

When they pulled over in Durant, Oklahoma to get gas, Sam headed off to the bathroom. He had to stop himself before he walked into the women’s room; it almost felt odd using a urinal again. On his way out, he bumped into Dean who was stepping through the door as he was walking out.

“Don’t eat my M&M’s before I get back,” the man joked as the door closed behind him.

Sam grinned. At least Dean seemed to be acting normal again…well, whatever counted as normal for a Winchester. Sam bit back a laugh when he got to the car and saw a bag of gummy bears sitting on his seat. He took the gesture as Dean’s version of an olive branch.

Things were less tense after that, but Babar was still keeping them company from the backseat and Sam was thinking of introducing Dean to the oversized elephant. But he didn’t. He understood Dean needed time to sort things out.

Hours three through five slipped by; the sun passed its zenith and was beginning its descent into the west. They swung by a fast food joint and picked up burgers late in the afternoon. Sometime later, they stopped for more gas and purchased two cherry-flavored slushies. Dean had refused to give up the wheel when Sam had offered to take the helm and the younger Winchester didn’t push it; he knew that when his brother had a problem, the wheel of the Impala seemed to be the best therapy.

Sam carefully slipped across the seat to Dean’s side once more. This time his brother didn’t flinch and Sam was stunned when Dean’s hand dropped down to his thigh all on its own. Small steps. It was good enough for him. At least Dean was trying.

His eyes grew heavy and Sam laid his head on Dean’s shoulder again. Before he knew it, he was dozing off.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Dean knew Sam was doing his best not to say anything, but he could see the emotional pain he was causing the man. And Dean knew he couldn’t just end what had been started; that wasn’t a road he wanted to take anyway.

He still had his hand on Sam’s leg and felt his brother’s warmth seeping through the denim. He also felt the thick muscle of Sam’s thigh under his fingers. It wasn’t anything new; they had both touched each other in the past whether it be sparring, taking care of each other when one or the other was hurt, or just plain screwing around. But it was different now, and he found himself wondering what it would be like to have that firm muscle under him as he fucked into his brother.

His line of thought was cut off when he noticed Sam’s head getting heavy on his shoulder. The next thing he knew, his brother shifted on the seat, folding his long legs up, and laid his head on Dean’s thigh. Dean didn’t say anything; he just let it happen. Several minutes later he could hear Sam’s soft snores.

“Dude, you better not start droolin’ on my leg,” Dean said with a smile as he glanced down at his sasquatch-sized brother. It always amazed him how Sam could fit himself into such tight spaces. Without really even thinking about it, Dean let his right hand fall to Sam’s head and loosely tangled his fingers in the man’s wavy hair.

As he watched the road, his mind drifted back to his earlier train of thought…fucking Sam. He’d had some creative chicks in time’s past and had used the ‘back door’ on occasion, but to do that with Sam? Dean lifted an eyebrow and glanced down at his brother, eyes following his long, lean form, finally stopping at his ass. His mind may not be totally on board yet, but the fact that his pants seemed too tight all of a sudden told Dean that his man bits were on the boat and were ready to set sail with the idea.

Speaking of man bits, Sam’s dick would be all there, too. Dean had seen Sam many times over the years, but he’d never really _looked_ at his brother…well, not until this morning anyway. Little brother Sammy was hung like a fucking horse. Proportionate was the word. Freakishly tall and freakishly hung. And Dean had no intentions on letting Sam’s cock anywhere near his own ass. That door was shut; it wasn’t even open for discussion.

And yeah, while Dean was on the subject, he may as well think of _everything_. He’d always enjoyed going down on girls, giving them a little extra attention before things got hot and heavy. Could he survive actually giving Sam a blow job? Hell, he’d gotten a couple of nice ones from his brother. _And how the hell did Sam know how to do that anyway?_ (Dean would have to find that out later…along with the whole thong thing he had going on. Sounded like college boy had some secrets. He found himself grinning. Sam wasn’t as innocent as he led Dean to believe all these years. He wondered what else he’d find out about his brother.)

Okay, so, Dean made a short list in his mind as he sorted things out:

First on his mental list was kissing _guy_ Sam: He’d already done that, even if he didn’t know it at the time; there wasn’t much to say about it except that it had been hot…scorching really.

Next up was Sam’s firm, and very male, body: Rock hard planes of solid muscle instead of soft, supple flesh… He could picture Sam under him, writhing in ecstasy, muscles bunching up and straining as he fought to hold himself together while Dean pounded into him, claiming him as his once more. The idea interested him more than a little and a small groan escaped Dean’s throat at the image in his head. He thanked god that Sam was asleep and didn’t hear that.

And then there was oral sex: Cock instead of pussy… He could give it a try. No one had ever died from giving a blow job, not that he knew of anyway. And, Jesus, what it felt like when Sam had gone down on him… It had been damn near the best thing he ever felt; second only to being buried to the hilt in his brother’s heat. The idea of being able to do that to Sam, wrecking him in such a spectacular way? Dean was all for that.

The second most important thing on the list was sex: Butt sex from here on out… From what they’d already done, he knew screwing Sam would be good. Actually, he was pretty sure it would be awesome – Just the thought of sliding his dick into his brother’s tight heat had Dean shifting slightly in his seat as he drove – But, shit, what if Sam decided he wanted to top? There was always that chance. Dean wasn’t sure he could play the role of a bottom. Just the idea of somebody touching him like that, even if it _was_ Sam, had the muscles in his ass clenching. Then there was Sam’s gigantor cock. Yeah, so not going there right now; he wasn’t even sure that thing could fit up his ass. Well, he’d figure that out later if he needed to.

Finally, he thought about the most important thing on his list: Sam, his brother, the person he loved more than anyone in the world… That hadn’t changed. There was nothing to think about there.

Once he checked off everything on his list, Dean came to his conclusion: He could do this. He _wanted_ to do this. There might be some bumps in the road, but if they worked together, they could smooth them out.

**W**I**N**C**H**E**S**T**E**R**

Sam woke up, keeping quiet and still at first. Somehow he had managed on using his brother’s leg as a pillow and Dean’s fingers were in his hair. He tried to keep his breathing even just so he could enjoy the moment a little longer, but Dean, being who he was, knew the moment he woke up.

“Welcome back to the waking world.”

He turned so he was facing up and noted it was now dark out. _How long had he slept for?_ Giving himself a moment to wake up, he watched Dean as he drove. His brother looked relaxed and comfortable at his Baby’s wheel. Sam didn’t want to move, but he forced himself to sit up and immediately saw that they were no longer on the highway. Trees seemed to close in all around them as the Impala wound around a tight curve in the road. A light snow was falling, blanketing the asphalt ahead of them in white.

“Where are we?” Sam asked as he wiped his hands over his face, clearing the sleep from his eyes.

“Don’t know. Somewhere near the northern border of Arkansas,” Dean replied without looking at him.

“What happened to the highway?”

“It got boring.”

Sam lifted an eyebrow. “Boring?”

“Yep.”

“Huh.” Sam sat back in his seat, allowing himself to wake up some more. He wondered at Dean’s terse answers, not knowing what kind of mood the man was in.

“How are you doing?” he finally asked.

Dean briefly looked at Sam then, but turned his eyes back to the road immediately after due to the weather. (The Impala was a good car, but snow wasn’t her friend.) “I’m good, Sam.”

 _Good?_ Oookaaayyy…. “Could you maybe elaborate on that?”

“Good, Sam. As in okay, alright, fine. C’mon, geek boy, you’re supposed to be the smart one.”

That still didn’t really answer Sam’s question, but he knew if he kept pushing, Dean’s mood could change in a heartbeat, so he left it for now. He turned and climbed up on the seat so he could move some things around in the back. When he sat back down Dean looked to see what he’d gotten; it was his half-eaten bag of gummy bears. “Want some?”

Dean made a disgusted face. “I may have bought those for you, but I’ll stick to my chocolate, thanks.”

So Sam settled back again, keeping his mouth occupied with the soft, chewy bears since his brother didn’t seem inclined to have a discussion of any sort. He began to count the mile markers in his head as they passed them. All the while, Dean remained quiet; the man was probably tired. He’d been at the wheel all day.

Minutes passed; the road they were traversing seemed to go on and on through the never ending tunnel of trees. No lights. No businesses. Nothing. The minutes stretched into an hour and Sam had to ask, “Dean, do you even know where we are?”

It took a minute for Dean to respond. “Probably Missouri by now.”

“Looks like we’re like in East Bumfuck .” Sam looked across the seat at his brother. He knew the man didn’t like being second-guessed when it came to his driving, but it didn’t make sense that he’d get off the highway in the middle of nowhere, in the dark no less. “If something happens out here, we’re screwed. You do know that, right?” Then he ducked his head so he could look out the window at the snow-covered trees going by.

“We’re fine, Sam. Nothing’s gonna happen. Like I said, I was just gettin’ tired of the highway.” Dean sounded drained as he spoke. Even _the_ great Dean Winchester shouldn’t drive so many hours straight.

“Man, I can see you’re tired. Pull over and let me take the wheel before you get us lost, that’s if you haven’t already.”

At the comment, the elder Winchester snapped a narrow-eyed glance at Sam, but Dean shocked Sam by actually doing it.

They swapped seats, Dean taking a field piss before he got back in the car. “Drive on, Captain Kirk,” the elder Winchester muttered sarcastically. “Just make sure you stay on this road.”

Bitch face number twelve stared over at Dean before Sam put the car in drive and pulled back out onto the road. “So you _do_ know where we’re at.” It was a statement, not a question.

Dean didn’t answer as he made himself comfortable in the passenger seat. His brother was clearly up to something.

Time crept by slowly and yet the scenery hadn’t changed. Sam looked down at the gas gauge and the needle was getting dangerously close to the ‘E’.

“Hey, Dean, we’ve got a little problem.” Sam reached over and shook his brother by the shoulder when he didn’t get an answer.

Dean was slouched down in the seat, wrapped in his jacket, and was startled when Sam woke him up; he’d fallen asleep without realizing it. “What?”

“We’re getting low on gas and we’re still in the middle of nowhere.”

“How long have you been driving?” At Sam’s blank stare, he repeated the question. “How long?”

Sam frowned at Dean’s question. “Um, I don’t know. About an hour, I guess.” Suddenly, with an abrupt turn of the wheel, he pulled the car off the side of the road and threw it into park; he’d had it with this game of pulling teeth. “What the hell aren’t you telling me? Clearly you have some destination in mind because you’re not even concerned.”

Dean was wide awake now, having had to catch himself with an outstretched arm before he plowed into the dash. “Geez, Sammy. Take it easy. No need to beat on the car.” He sat back and adjusted his jacket before continuing. “There’s a place.”

“Oh, really? Care to fill me in, ‘cause I must’ve been sleeping when the little birdie flew by and told you about it.”

“Have you seen any signs for a lake since you’ve been driving?”

“A lake?” Sam gave it some thought. There was that big blue sign a while back. “Yeah, I saw a sign not too long ago. Ozark Lake.”

“Did it say how far?”

 _What did Dean care?_ “I’m pretty sure it said fifteen miles. There’s probably another five to go.”

“Then we’ve got enough gas. Just get us there and I’ll let you know where to turn.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” Sam pulled back out onto the road, following Dean’s instructions and still wondering at what the man was up to. A little while later, they turned up a hidden driveway; he would have missed it if his brother hadn’t pointed it out. Sam couldn’t see anything beyond the reach of the headlights except for what he assumed was a private cabin. The porch light was on, but there were no cars in the driveway.

“Dean?” Sam put the car in park and turned the engine off. He had no idea what this place was. A job? A place to stay for the night? “Care to let me in on the big secret now that we’re here?” He peered out the window at the single-story log house as the snow fell lightly on the hood of the car and then looked over to Dean; the man’s features and expression were mostly hidden in the shadows. Although the younger Winchester couldn’t see his brother’s smile, he knew it was there, felt it somehow.

“I, uh, made some calls while you were sleeping. It’s ours for the week.” He cleared his throat. “Thought maybe we could get to know one another again.”

Sam’s jaw literally dropped. This was the last thing he was expecting. “Seriously?” Really, he’d thought Dean would have had a much harder time with this… _them_. And then suddenly he closed his mouth and his brow creased. “Dean?”

“Yeah?” Dean asked innocently.

“You’re not just doing this to appease me, are you? If you’re not ready… Hell, man, if you’re _never_ ready for this, I can deal. I don’t wanna force this on you.”

“Sam, nobody’s forcin’ anything on me. I had some time to think about it and, yeah, I’m gonna have some stuff I need to figure out, but like you said, it’s still you.” He was quiet then and shifted in his seat to face Sam. “Somehow I’m gathering this is gonna be much easier on you than me. And don’t try to hide it. Just the fact that you give awesome blow jobs is enough to tell me that I wasn’t your first. And, dude, the thongs?” He smirked. “I think you were up to a little more than just readin’ books when you ran off to that pricey college of yours.”

Sam’s eyes widened in shock at Dean’s words; he felt the heat of an embarrassed blush rising up on his cheeks and the man snickered.

“Hey, just because I wasn’t into trying things out with guys when I was younger doesn’t mean I wasn’t doing other stuff. But we’ll save that for another day. I just hope you understand that some stuff we’ll have to take slow…and some stuff just isn’t gonna happen.”

“Um, okay…” The words came out slow and unsure as Sam’s brain was trying to catch up with the current and unexpected conversation. “Like what exactly are we talking about?” He had to know what was off the table before they went any further with this. Sam was overjoyed that Dean was taking these steps, but if they were in this for a lifetime (which he hoped they were after they got Dean out of his deal), they both had to be in agreement with certain things.

Dean could practically hear Sam thinking; his brother was always worrying about shit. “Dude, all I mean is you ain’t stickin’ that monster cock of yours up my ass.” There. Dean had said it. The one thing he was most anxious about was laid out in front of them. How was Sam going to react now that it was out? Would he be upset?

Sam was quiet for an unsettling moment, but then a grin spread across his face, dimples deepening on either side of his mouth, and his head rolled back on the seat as he laughed deeply. “Shit,” he said after he caught his breath and wiped the tears from his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “If that’s all you’re concerned about, you don’t have to worry about it.”

He closed his eyes, bringing himself back to Stanford. “You’re right when you say I did things at Stanford, you know.” Sam let out a sigh as the memories flooded his mind. And then he spoke as he opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. “It was the first time I was on my own without you and Dad looking over my shoulder. I wanted to try things.” He paused. If there was a time for this, it was now. “The feelings I have for you, they didn’t just start after the Vila. I’ve sorta…,” he trailed off. God, he was going to reveal his best kept secret to Dean. “I’ve kinda been in love with you for years, Dean. What I did at Stanford? Well, I wanted to see if you were just a passing phase. And I’d never been with a man before that, so I wanted to see if it was something I really wanted.”

He turned his head as it rested on the seat and looked at Dean; a shaft of moonlight lit the right side of his brother’s face giving his features an ethereal quality. “I found that it wasn’t what I wanted, not other guys anyway…because they weren’t you. And since I thought I could never have you, I poured my heart and soul into what I found with Jess.”

Dean had no idea what to say. Sam had just spilled everything. And shit, his little brother had been wanting him since before Stanford? He could only sit back against the door as he waited for his brother to continue.

Sam sat up, turning to face Dean. He smiled as he said, “And just so you know, you don’t have to worry about my _monster cock_. From what little experimentation I did do, I know I’m a happy bottom.” Sam chuckled when he heard Dean’s sigh of relief. Then he became serious again and quietly said, "There's something else, too." Dean pulled himself to attention then, waiting for Sam's next big secret. "Before that thing back at the bar, I've never let a guy kiss me. In my mind, I was saving that for you. You were my first-” He was abruptly cut off when Dean was suddenly upon him, hauling him across the seat and pulling him down for a fiery kiss, sealing his lips over Sam’s, the fingers of one hand slipping through his hair and tightening as Dean’s other hand found its way under Sam’s jacket and slid up to meet skin.

Sam opened up to Dean’s tongue as it thrust into his mouth. He tried to concentrate on the kiss, but it was hard with two taller-than-average men sprawled out in the confining space of the car. His left knee connected painfully hard with the steering wheel, but his groan was swallowed by Dean.

Dean’s hands were all over him, chest, shoulders, back, ass, and then suddenly his jacket was drawn off his shoulders and disappeared over the back of the seat; his t-shirt followed quickly in its wake.

In between kisses, Sam attempted to ask his brother if they should take this inside. All he got in response was, “Yeah, we probably should, but do you really want to wait?”

That spurred Sam on. He sat up, straddling Dean’s hips, his left foot on the floor to help keep him upright, his right knee sinking into the crease of the seat. He unfastened his jeans and pulled an act of contortionism to push them down along with his boxer briefs, somehow managing to kick them off along with his sneakers without kneeing his brother.

Dean scooted back from under Sam as he quickly stripped out of his clothes. “Shit, it’s cold in here,” he mumbled as he leaned down to unlace his boots only because his pants were caught up in them. “Good thing you’re like a friggin’ furnace.” Finally, he kicked his shoes off on the floor; they were followed closely by his socks, jeans, and boxers.

They sat on opposite sides of the car, Dean’s back up against the passenger side door, Sam sitting back against the driver’s side, both men taking in the shadowed lines of the other. The windows were already fogging up with their heavy breathing.

Dean broke the silence then. “Back seat, Sammy.” His voice came out low and rough. Whatever he’d been worried about this morning was lost to him. He wanted Sam and he was going to have Sam…now. S _crew taking things slowly._

As Sam leaned over the seat and relocated a few things to the floor, Dean tasked himself with finding the small bottle of lube he always kept handy in the glove box for emergencies. _You never knew when you might need the stuff…like now._ When he found the bottle he turned just in time to see Sam’s ass wriggling over the seat and shook his head. Not once had it ever occurred to him that he’d be screwing his brother in the backseat of his Baby.

“There any room for me back there?” Without waiting for an answer, he swung himself over the seat as gracefully as any 6’1” man could (which wasn’t much at all) and landed with an “oomph” on top of Sam, forcing a laugh out of his brother.

“Dude, a little warning next time.”

“Shut up before I kick your ass.” Dean was now straddling Sam. He could feel his brother’s hard dick in the crease of his ass as he leaned down to place another kiss to Sam’s lips. As he shifted, he heard Sam gasp. Forgetting momentarily about what he said about his brother’s dick being near his ass, Dean wiggled back a little causing Sam to arch up into him. “You’re a needy little bitch, aren’t you,” he said as he finally slipped back, letting his own cock slide against Sam’s. And, fuck, that felt better than it should. Dean let out his own little gasp.

Sam couldn’t hide the shiver that coursed through his body as Dean’s hard length slid alongside his own; his heart was pounding in his chest as his breaths became pants. He reached up and grasped onto his brother’s straining biceps as the man held himself up over him, continuing to pleasure each of them as he rocked his hips down into Sam. “Fuck, Dean,” he cursed as he looked down between them to see his brother rutting up against him.

Sam really wished it wasn’t so dark out, but who was he kidding? It only heightened his other senses. The sense of touch alone... And shit, he was gonna come. _Too fast…too fast_ , he thought to himself. Sam instantly let go of one of Dean’s arms and reached a hand between them to squeeze the base of his dick, stemming off the orgasm that was starting to surge through him. “Jesus,” he groaned out throwing his head back, knocking back into the door with it. “Dean, I-”

Dean knew exactly what had just happened, why Sam was writhing the way he was. He slowed his motions down to almost a complete stop and dipped his head down so he could mouth his way up along his brother’s jaw. He paused near Sam’s ear and whispered, “I’m gonna fuck you good, Sammy. It’s gonna be so good that you won’t be able to walk for days without feeling me.” He smiled when his brother whimpered and then slid down to Sam’s collarbone, sucking on it and marking it.

Technically, this was the third time Sam was with Dean like this, so he should have been prepared, but something about doing this as _himself_ made him all that much more sensitive to Dean’s touch. He tilted his head to give the man more room as he laved and nipped at his neck. His brother’s cock was digging into his leg and he shifted to rub against it causing Dean to groan. “Dean, I wanna feel you in me…please.”

“Patience, little brother. I’m still getting to know you again.”

Sam could feel Dean smile into his skin as he suckled his way down to his left nipple, teasing it between his teeth until it peaked. After, Dean moved over to his right and nipped and licked until he was satisfied. Meanwhile, his brother’s hands were at the small of Sam’s waist keeping him from moving around too much as he worked his way down his body.

“Tell me, Sam, you gonna wear some of that sexy underwear for me? I think you like it.” Dean dragged his tongue down from Sam’s sternum to his belly button where he stopped and circled it, raising goosebumps on his brother’s skin. “Hmmm?”

“Shit, yeah, Dean. Whatever you want.” Sam tried to rock up to gain some kind of friction for his cock, anywhere. He nearly lost his breath when he felt Dean move even further down through the dusting of hair on his lower abdomen towards his aching flesh.

“You’re so perfect. Fuck, I don’t know why I didn’t notice before,” Dean murmured as he nosed along Sam’s groin, feeling his brother’s hard cock slide along the side of his cheek. He inhaled, learning Sam’s scent; it was richer, muskier than when he was female, and he found that he liked it. When he reached the base of his brother’s rigid member, he swallowed, reminding himself this was Sam; he could do this. He darted his tongue over his lips, wetting them, and then let his tongue slide up along the underside of Sam’s cock, tracing the thick vein to the top where he circled the crown and dipped into the slit tasting his brother for the first time.

“Dean!” Sam rocked up, muscles straining, almost breaking free from Dean’s tight grip. “I can’t…” He could feel his body tensing up from his brother’s attentions – it was all so surreal that his mind was having a difficult time registering that it was _Dean_ who was doing this to him – and then he felt himself being swallowed down; it was too much. Sam reached out and grabbed a handful of his brother’s short hair in warning, but the man stayed where he was, his full lips surrounding Sam’s twitching cock, his mouth continuing to slide up and down along Sam’s length. “Dean! Fuck! Sh-” The last word fell short on a deep groan as he came down his brother’s throat. His chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath. _Holy shit!_ _He had just come down Dean’s throat._ As Sam started to come around again, he noticed the bruising grip that he had on the man’s bare shoulder and loosened his hold; there was sure to be a mark there in the morning.

Dean worked Sam with his mouth until there was nothing left and then licked him clean. _Jesus, that was so different than eating a girl out_ , he thought as he let Sam’s spent cock fall from his lips. “Y’okay up there?” He smiled when all Sam could do was nod. “I hope you can stay awake for the rest.”

Sam jumped when he heard the _snap_ of the cap on the bottle of lube. Unbidden anxiety flooded his body knowing what was going to happen. It had been nearly five years since he’d done this – he might as well have never done it at all – and he knew it was going to hurt before it could feel good. One thing he knew was that Dean had done this before with girls (yeah, his brother had bragged a few times too many about his sexual escapades in the past) so he should know what he was doing.

The younger Winchester was tensing up under Dean; it wasn’t going to be good for anyone if he didn’t relax. “Hey, Sammy? It’s me, okay? ‘M not gonna hurt you, alright?” Dean warmed the lube up between his fingers and waited for Sam to acknowledge him. When he heard a soft “Do it” whispered from the man, he reached down, letting his slicked fingers skim along Sam’s inner thigh before continuing down to circle his brother’s puckered hole with them.

Before moving any further, Dean slid up over Sam again. “Kiss me, Sam. Concentrate on me for now.”

Reaching up to take his brother’s face between his hands, Sam pulled him down and kissed him. He let his focus shift to the kiss, his brother’s tongue licking along his lips and pushing into his mouth, sliding against his tongue, sucking at it, and mapping out each and every corner of his mouth. As he relaxed under Dean’s weight, he felt the man’s fingers circle his entrance and moaned when he felt one begin to slowly push into him. Dean was gentle as he began a rhythmic slip-slide in and out of Sam with his finger, letting his brother get accustomed to the intrusion. As Sam got comfortable with the feeling he let himself rock down into the sensation and murmured “Another” into their kiss.

The elder Winchester pushed a second digit in, feeling the ring of muscle stretch as he began to scissor his fingers in and out of his brother. It was so fucking hot; he could feel precum leaking from his dick and rocked down into Sam, needing to be inside his brother in the worst way. He broke the kiss and caught a gleam in the younger man’s eye. “Shit, Sam. You know how hot you are like this, letting me do this to you? I can’t wait to get in there,” he gave his fingers a little less-than-gentle shove, causing Sam to catch his breath. “Can’t wait to sink my cock into that tight hole of yours.”

Sam lost himself as his body surrendered to Dean’s touch. It was cold in the car, but he felt nothing except for his brother’s heat blanketing him. As the man sat back and shifted the angle of his fingers, Sam’s world whited out for a brief moment and he arched up from the seat, fingers clutching at the leather to either side of him. “Holy shit!” he panted out when he caught his breath.

“Fuck, Sammy. Y’okay?” he barely heard Dean asking through the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.

“Pros…prostate,” Sam hissed as his brother’s fingers slipped by the sensitive bundle of nerves again. “Don’t fucking stop. Feels good.”

Dean couldn’t wait much longer, not with Sam reeling under his touch like he was. “You good for three?” he asked.

Sam nodded. “Yeah. Do it. I need you.” The last three words came out on a whimper.

Dean was careful when he inserted a third finger into Sam’s ass. He watched his brother as the man stilled and a soft mewl left his pursed lips. _Goddamn, Sam was tight_. A low growl built up in the back of Dean’s throat and he had to palm himself to keep from coming. He’d never admit it, but, Christ, he could get off from just this alone. Once he was fairly sure he had himself under control, at least for the moment, Dean reached out and curled his fingers around Sam’s semi-hard cock, giving it a few tugs. He could feel the muscles which were clamped down around his fingers loosen up a little as Sam’s attention turned to the new touch.

“Dean, I want your cock in me… _now_.” Sam rocked down onto Dean’s fingers, trying to fuck himself open even further.

“Fuck, Sammy.” Dean slipped his fingers free and found the bottle of lube he had set aside in the rear window earlier and squirted some into his hand. He closed the lid before tossing it back and then began to stroke his cock, slicking it up; a shiver worked its way up his spine. God, he’d be lucky to last more than five seconds once they got going. “You’re sure?”

Sam’s answer came in the form of his long legs wrapping around Dean’s waist and pulling him forward. “Stop worrying about breaking me and just do it.” He reinforced the command with another squeeze of his legs, heels digging into the flesh of Dean’s ass.

“Like I said, needy bitch,” Dean snickered. But his humor fell away to the lust curling through him as he inched closer and pressed the head of his cock against Sam’s tight furl of muscle. Every noise in the car, their breaths included, fell silent as Dean began to push forward. His teeth dug into his bottom lip as his length breached Sam.

Sam tried to keep his muscles relaxed as he felt Dean finally pushing into him. He kept his breathing steady as he felt himself stretching open to take his brother in; it was a hell of a lot tighter fit than Dean sliding home into him as a girl…and fuck, it felt good under the burn. A low moan curled out of him as his brother worked his way in. “That’s it, Dean. Give it to me…all of you.”

“So fuckin’ tight, Sammy.” Dean grunted as he fought to keep from plunging right into Sam. He knew it would be too much if he did, but, hell, he wanted to.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Dean bottomed out. Sam was so full, he felt like he would burst wide open. They both held still, each getting used to the sensation, and then Sam shifted tentatively, needing movement.

“Dean… Shit, I need you to move.”

At Sam’s words, Dean lifted the younger man up by the hips to tilt him up for a better angle and slipped back before sliding forward again. Every little movement he made was set to short-circuit his brain; feeling Sam under him like this, letting him fuck him like he was… Then he made another slightly stronger thrust, testing things out. When Sam didn’t complain, he picked up the pace, the fronts of his thighs slapping against the backs of Sam’s. The chill of the car and the tight fit of the backseat no longer mattered as Sam broke apart below him with a moan, taking everything Dean could give to him.

Leaning down, Dean pressed his forehead into Sam’s shoulder as he concentrated on every push and pull of his hips, listened to every noise and gasp his brother made, and felt every touch from Sam as the man’s blunt fingernails scraped down his back, then as he gripped him tight in those large hands. He pressed a few lingering kisses up the side of Sam’s neck, licked over the scruff covering his jawline, and kissed his brother again, not being able to get enough of his taste.

When Dean broke their kiss moments later, he sat back up. The change in position sent Dean’s dick sliding right over Sam’s prostate and the younger Winchester curled up from the seat, his own cock rock hard again and ready to let go once more. “God, Dean, I’m gonna-” And then it happened again. _Dean was too fucking good at this._ Sam felt his muscles begin to flutter and tighten around Dean as the man continued to thrust deep into him. His brother’s aim was true and the third time it sent Sam over the precipice of his orgasm and he shouted as he came. “Dean!” Thick, hot ropes of cum spilled over his stomach and chest; his ass clenched tightly around his brother, making the man lose his rhythm and falter in his movements.

When Sam came, it was more than enough to set Dean off; he’d been holding off long before he was even in his brother. “Fuck!” Dean could say no more as his thrusts became erratic and his climax ripped through him, starting all the way down at his toes; his dick pulsed deep inside his brother and his whole body shook from the aftershock. He collapsed onto Sam when he was unable to hold himself up anymore. “Jesus Christ. That was just…” He groaned, taking in great, gulping breaths, sharing the air that passed between them with his brother.

“That was fucking great,” Sam whispered into his ear. “Thank you.”

Dean pushed himself up and grimaced when he felt himself peeling away from Sam, his brother’s cooling cum sealing them together. He reached down and picked one of their shirts up from the floor and cleaned up the mess the best he could. “Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“If we’re gonna do this, I don’t want you thanking me. It’s not a favor. I’m doing this because I want to, because I love you.”

“So you’re really good with this?”

“I am.”

Sam grinned then. Hearing that Dean was okay with this was the best thing he’d ever heard and his heart pitter-pattered in his chest with the knowledge that his brother had given him this.

“And Sam?”

“Yeah?”

Dean reached down and pinched one of Sam’s nipples, eliciting a moan from his brother. “If you ever piss me off, I have a new way to get even.” His smirk was almost cloaked by the darkness surrounding them, but not quite.

“Really? And what’s that?” Sam asked when he got himself under control; Dean was going to drive him crazy if he kept touching him.

“I’ll just-,” Dean started as he leaned down and sucked on the dusky nipple he’d just pinched, “-withhold sex from you.” He trailed his tongue up to the hollow above Sam’s collarbone and then sealed his lips over it, sucking until he knew there would be a mark left there.

“Or we could just have hot make-up sex,” Sam suggested with a snicker which was cut off by a lusting groan because Dean just couldn’t keep his mouth off of him.

“Or I could always turn you into a girl again.”

Sam tilted his chin down to his chest so he could look at Dean. “Dude, do you actually remember the spell?”

Dean was silent. He ran the words over in his head. Truthfully, he didn’t. It had been a while since he told Bobby what they were and he hadn’t given them much thought since. “I can figure them out again.”

Sam snorted. “Don’t you think that could be a little dangerous? You might screw ‘em up, turn me into a frog or something. How’re you gonna get me back to _me_ then? I seem to recall you once saying there was no way you’d kiss a frog…even if I _am_ your handsome prince.” He reached up to smooth a hand along the center of Dean’s muscular chest and then let it trail down over his stomach until his fingers bumped into the man’s already more than alert cock. “But you know what?” He gripped his brother’s hard flesh then, causing Dean to suddenly halt in his thorough exploration of his still flushed and sensitive skin and look up at him. “I happen to remember _each_ and _every_ word.” Sam punctuated his words with either a slip-slide of his hand or a gentle squeeze of Dean’s cock, forcing his brother to bite down on his lip as he tried to suppress a moan; Sam’s big, shit-eating grin was very noticeable to the elder Winchester, even in the dark. “So you might just want to watch yourself.”

Dean managed to throw the soiled shirt that he still held in his hand at Sam’s head then and laughed. “You just try it, little brother.” And then he dipped down and ravished his brother with another kiss.

Maybe Dean’s little mistake hadn’t been so bad; after all, he’d gotten Sam out of the deal. And as long as Sam didn’t try to get even with him, things would be good.

 

**_The End_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope you enjoyed this not-so-little fic. (I got a little carried away with it. It wasn't supposed to be this long.)
> 
> I hope to see you again in the future!
> 
>  
> 
> **And a quick thank you to riathemai for all the help and suggestions. She's a very patient woman :)

**Author's Note:**

> Please remember to leave comments. If you don't feel like leaving a comment and like the story even just a little, hit the Kudos button so I know you were here.
> 
> Thank you!
> 
>  
> 
> **NEW** I've added my e-mail to my profile. If anyone should like to contact me for anything, please feel free to drop me a line :)


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